


Home Less

by VincentMeoblinn



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, Criminal Minds
Genre: Drug Addiction, Homeless Network, Homelessness, M/M, Mental Health Issues, No Haley or Jack, Non-Consensual Drug Use, PAST Tobias Hinkle/Spencer Reid, Schizophrenia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-04 14:50:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 31,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4141857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VincentMeoblinn/pseuds/VincentMeoblinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having suffered great tragedy, Hotch found himself with no purpose to his life beside his job. As such he found himself wanting- needing- to run his own team, but Gideon showed no sign of wanting to retire. So he offered to start the Western Division of the BAU in the heart of Las Vegas. There Grissom introduced him to the Homeless Network and their brilliant, damaged leader.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Hotch was so tired from his case that he didn’t even register his front porch light being out. He just automatically grabbed his flashlight from his hip as if he were approaching a crime scene and then proceeded to unlock his front door. He stepped in and auto-flicked the light switch inside and… nothing. That was when something being off hit him and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He had his gun out instantly, his keys clanging to the floor as they became a nuisance when he needed a hand for a flashlight and one for his weapon. Hotch moved slowly through his tiny living quarters, which consisted of his kitchen area as well. Nothing was missing, but there were burnt down candles in cups all over the place as if he’d had a power outage, except the last time he’d been in his house he’d had power. Hotch moved to the bathroom first and did a quick sweep and then cleared the bedroom as well, even poking around the closet and under the bed. Nothing. The last place to look was the finished basement, which had been the sole reason he’d bought such a small place. The door to it was locked and for a moment Hotch wondered why on earth he’d locked it. Then he remembered.

XXX

Having lost Haley and Jack to Foyet, Hotch had found himself with no purpose to his life besides his job. As such he found himself wanting- _needing-_ to run his own team. With Rossi having returned and Gideon showing no sign of retiring _ever_ , Hotchner decided to request a position outside of DC in order to move up the ranks faster. He could always move back when the slot opened up in DC.

So Hotch had moved to Vegas and Morgan had decided to go with him, making room for Rossi and Gideon to train new BAU agents. He was now fielding the West Coast Division of the BAU out of his newly opened Vegas office in the city that never slept. A stoic, silent man named Grissom who had transferred from the CSI division joined his team. Hotch had instantly liked him and they spent hours in companionable silence, passing files back and forth and making the occasional observation.

He’d been in Vegas for a week when he’d met Spencer. Grissom had introduced him to the homeless network, an obvious jibe at Sherlock Holmes, and Spencer had been a key part of that network. He’d first met him in an alley outside of a crimescene. He’d walked up to the yellow line and motioned at Grissom, eyes averted.

“Who’s that?” Hotch asked, “Someone you know?”

“Spencer Reid,” Grissom had replied, “Homeless network.”

“Them, again,” Hotch huffed.

“Don’t knock it. They see everything,” Grissom smiled, heading over, “Come on, I’ll introduce you. Spencer’s a local.”

“He was on the force?” Hotch asked in surprise.

“No, no,” Grissom shook his head, “Not a LEO. He was born in Vegas and grew up here. He knows everything about this city, and he sees everything or knows who has. Spencer, how are you?”

Grissom didn’t put his hand out to shake the young man’s hand, but Hotch did. Spencer was a thin young man with longish hair, his eyes darting about behind wire-rim glasses that had more scratches than a meth addicts arms. He wore what had once been a nice button down, rolled at the sleeves, but was now stained far beyond recognition of designer. A pair of suspenders held up brown dress pants that were patched in multiple places with various fabrics carefully sown to keep the warmth in at night and the sun off by day. His shoes were so tattered that Hotch wasn’t sure if they were dirty black sneakers or old boots. He gave Hotch’s hand an anxious look and shook his head, brushing his hair aside with long fingers.

“I don’t like to touch people,” Reid told him, “Germs.”

“You live on the streets, how concerned could you be about germs?” Hotch asked in disbelief.

Grissom sighed and gave him an annoyed look, but Spencer answered for himself at an alarmingly fast pace, “I keep myself as clean as possible. There are a few Laundromats that let us wash our clothes on slow days. I also avoid physical contact with others since herd infection is one of the chief ways that illness is passed, that and infection from foreign bodies such as rusty nails, that sort of thing. Did you want me to leave?”

Hotch cocked his head. It wasn’t a threat; he genuinely thought that Hotch’s words had been to chase him off.

“No,” Hotch stated, “I apologize. What did you see?”

“I wasn’t here, but Geraldine is on that corner there every day between four and eight AM. Then there’s Pablo. He sleeps down that alley every Tuesday night, but he’s a drunk so you might not get much from him.”

“You’re an addict,” Hotch stated.

“You’re observant,” Reid replied, “But not observant enough. I’ve been clean for six years.”

“I said you were an addict, not a meth-head.”

“Still off,” Reid smiled at him, biting at a nail in the corner of his mouth and giving him a shy look, “It was dilauded. My boyfriend as a teen forced it on me. He said it would make the sex better.”

“You look like you’re still a teen,” Hotch replied.

“Wow, you’re not very good at this,” Reid laughed, “I’m thirty-two. You’re very sad.”

“Sad?” Hotch asked.

“Yes,” Reid replied, “Very sad. You lost someone recently. I’ve never lost anyone before. My mom is still alive.”

“You’re very lucky,” Hotch replied, “So where can we find Geraldine and Pablo?”

“I’ll bring them to the corner of 5th and Franklin,” Reid replied, “At eleven tonight. You’ll have money?”

“Five for information, hundred for an ID,” Grissom replied.

“You pay him?” Hotch asked sharply, “A _hundred_?”

“It’s part of the budget,” Grissom replied, turning and heading back towards the crime scene, “They never actually ID. They’d have to go to trial and most of the people on the seat are so mentally ill that they can’t manage, even if we _could_ pass them off as a reliable witness. It would just be cruel.”

“So you give them five bucks for information and the hundred is a lure to get them to show, hoping for more,” Hotch noted, “Is their information even reliable?”

“Most of the time,” Grissom replied, “Spencer knows who’s honest and who isn’t. He also knows who’s stable and who isn’t. Don’t let the crazy look in his eyes fool you. He’s a genius with three doctorates. He was well on his way to the FBI in a different way when his mother found out he was gay and threw him out of the house. He ended up hooked on dilauded- and I swear some day I’m going to put that boyfriend of his behind bars- and it triggered his latent schizophrenia. Now he can’t cope with reality. Whatever reality is to him, that is.”

“He got himself clean, or you got him clean?” Hotch asked.

“I’m not that involved,” Grissom shook his head, “He got himself clean. I think he went through a church or something, but don’t ask him about it he’s got this whole spiel about how religion is the evil that is rotting our society from the inside out while teaching innocent children that it’s a moral guideline. It takes paranoia to a whole new level.”

“I’m not sure I disagree with him,” Hotch chuckled, but sobered at the sight of the young woman slashed on the ground again, “We need to stop this guy.”

“Your second case and it’s local,” Grissom replied, shaking his head, “We get a huge amount of serial killers around here. Between the truckers and the tourists and the seedy dives…“

“Yeah,” Hotch nodded, “That’s why they wanted me here. Less trips across the entire country for them and more criminals caught.”

XXX

Eleven rolled around and Hotch fought down a yawn. Spencer walked out of an alley with his arm looped in an older woman’s. She was smiling up at him while he led her along with a soft smile on his face. It changed him, lighting up his face beneath the yellow street lamps. He transferred that smile to Hotch as he approached and he was surprised to see his teeth were all in tact.

“We use first names,” Reid stated, “We’re all equals in the fight against evil. Spencer and Geraldine.”

“Aaron,” Hotch stated, “Gil couldn’t make it. He said you’d talk to me anyway. Same deal.”

“Geraldine, this is Aaron,” Reid stated softly, “He’s a friend of Gil’s. I met him today and he was very nice to me.”

 _Lie_.

“Such a good boy,” Geraldine smiled. Her teeth were _not_ in good condition.

“I’m concerned about something that happened on the corner of 5th and-“

“I know, I know,” She waved her hand at him, “I saw your pretty dead lady. She was staggering down the street crying. I thought maybe drugged. I was thinking of helping her but then the man showed up.”

“Can you describe him?” Hotch asked.

“Brown skinned, but light. Not black. Maybe Hispanic or Asian. He was short, under six feet. He came up behind her and before I could scream he beat her over the head. I ran after that so I saw no more.”

“What was he wearing?” Hotch asked.

“Black pants,” Geraldine’s eyes narrowed as she considered his words, “A brown jacket with some sort of yellow logo on it. Maybe sport thing.”

“If I showed you some logos-“ Hotch started, but Geraldine cut him off.

“You’ll know him by the demon sitting on his shoulder,” She told him firmly, “It was red.”

Spencer smiled at Geraldine. Hotch smiled at Geraldine. Hotch closed his notebook and smiled at Spencer.

“Thank you so much. Both of you. I’ll let you know if I need to speak with you again,” Hotch nodded.

“The 9th Street Shelter can get in touch with us on a weekly basis,” Reid replied with a nod, “Good luck catching that bast- er- bad guy.”

Reid glanced aside at Geraldine who was raising an eyebrow at him for nearly swearing. Reid gave Hotch a half wave, accepted his five-dollar bill, and then walked away with Geraldine, happily discussing the virtues of a _really_ good cup of coffee with her. Hotch sighed, ripped out the page in his book, dropped it in the nearest trashcan, and then continued on his way.

XXX

It was another week before he saw Reid again, and when he did he ended up breaking up a fight. Reid was standing on the sidewalk screaming at a cops horse, shouting at it for spilling his coffee. The cop ignored him until the young man irritated the horse and it began to shift. Then he shouted at him to back off and pushed at him with his stick.

“What are you doing?!” Reid shouted at him, “Police brutality! That’s police brutality!”

“Just walk it off, nutcase!” The cop snapped, “Before my horse kicks you!”

“All I want is a gods be damned cup of coffee! A cup that _you stole from me!”_ Reid raged, “Can I get a _different_ cop over here?! This man stole from me!”

Hotch hurried over and gripped the hysterical young man’s arm, pulling him away, “I’ll take it from here, officer.”

Hotch flashed his badge and dragged Reid off, ignoring his angry protests.

“Don’t touch me! I don’t like to be touched! Rape! Rape!”

“I’ll buy you a cup of coffee, just shut up,” Hotch hissed at him.

“Well, why didn’t you say so,” Reid replied, tone dropping down to conversation levels.

“You really think trying to get a cop arrested is going to get you a cup of coffee?” Hotch huffed, heading for the nearest café.

“It worked, didn’t it,” Reid beamed at him, “I have to wait out here.”

“What?” Hotch asked, hand on the door.

“They don’t let our kind inside,” Reid smiled as if that was a completely normal thing to say, “We have to stay out here. Or they’ll call the police and have us searched. Sometimes they take my things and say I stole them, but I had that walkman when I was a kid. I didn’t steal it. They don’t even sell them anymore.”

“They took your walkman?”

“The cassette tape kind,” Reid reached into a deep pocket and pulled out a handful of tapes in cases, “I still have the tapes. I was hoping to find a new one. I love Vivaldi.”

“Vivaldi?” Hotch asked in surprise, stepping away from the door.

“Yeah, but I was raised on Mozart,” Reid smiled, “Don’t tell my mom. She’ll freak if she knows I prefer Vivaldi. She’s _very_ stubborn.”

“My mother has the same issue with Protestants,” Hotch chuckled before he remembered that Reid was apparently anti-religion.

“Oh, no,” Reid laughed, “Don’t even get me started on religion.”

“So I heard,” Hotch laughed, “So how do you like your coffee?”

“Someone was talking about me?” Reid’s face had turned from nearly flirtatious to devastated.

“Excuse me?” Hotch asked.

“You said you heard, so you heard because someone was talking about me, behind my back,” Reid shifted from foot to foot, eyes darting around as his respiration increased.

“No, no,” Hotch backpedaled, “Grissom just mentioned that you had some strong feelings about-“

“ _Gil_ was talking about me behind my back?” Reid asked, staring at him with tearfilled eyes.

“Sugar?” Hotch tried, “Cream? You seem like a cream and sugar kind of guy.”

“I don’t think I’m thirsty anymore,” Reid replied, sniffling miserably, “I need to go think.”

“Wait…” Hotch called, but he turned and hurried across the street, narrowly avoiding being hit by two cars, “Hey!”

Reid kept going, vanishing down an alley. By the time Hotch got across the street he was gone down a dead end alley, and there was no sign that he’d climbed the fire escape.

_How the hell?_

XXX

Hotch was sitting in the office when he realized his phone was gone. His first thought was that Reid had stolen it, and just as he’d started swearing angrily under his breath and searching fruitlessly in his pockets.

“Something wrong?” Grissom asked.

“I think that Reid character stole my phone today,” Hotch snapped.

“Doubt it,” Grissom replied, “He doesn’t do petty crime. Try checking lost and found. It’s not like anyone can use it, so if it’s not there just have them shut it off remotely. Government issue.”

“Right,” Hotch sighed, heading for the computer specialists desk. Kevin was a young man with spectacles and a love of sweaters. Hotch missed Garcia and reminded himself to call her for kicks soon.

“Excuse me,” Hotch called, “I’ve lost my phone and-“

“Knew you’d come by soon,” Kevin grinned, reaching for a box under his desk, “If you see Agent Franklin tell him his phone is here, too. How do you lose your phone? I mean, in this day and age it’s like a woman losing her purse, you know?”

“Thanks,” Hotch grumbled, taking it out of the shoebox.

Before Kevin could pull the box away Hotch grabbed his wrist. The sheepish young man froze in alarm, staring at him as if he’d threatened him, but Hotch’s eyes were on the contents of the shoebox.

“Who does that belong to?” Hotch asked, pointing to the item he’d seen.

“Uh, no idea. It’s been here for years,” He stared into the box, “Kinda out of date. You want it?”

Hotch smiled as he pulled it out of the box, stuffing it in his pocket before heading off with a skip in his step. It was several weeks before he saw Reid again, but when he did he was standing on the side of the road reciting Shakespeare with a fedora on the ground to collect funds.

Hotch hurried over to the nearest coffee shop and got a cup of coffee with a pile of sugar and creamers. He placed them down by the hat, met Reid’s eyes briefly, and placed the Walkman into his hat. Reid’s eyes brightened for just a moment before he continued his one-man show of _Henry IV_.

“ _Shall there be gallows standing in England_

_when thou art king, and resolution thus_

_fobbed as it is with the rusty curb of old_

_father antick, the law?_ ”

Hotch smiled as he walked away from the young man with a fresh spring in his step. He hoped he took a break soon to enjoy that coffee while it was still hot, but judging by the passion in his voice and the place he was in his play it would be long cold.

XXX

Hotch’s was walking home that night when a sharp whistle caught his attention from the alleyway to his left. Reid was standing there, headphones in place. He gave Hotch a wink and pointed across the road. Hotch turned in confusion to see what he was pointing at. A man was walking down the street with a huge red macaw on his shoulder. The bird was swearing like a sailor and the man was casting loving glances at it.

“Come, Diablo,” He chuckled, “We will raise hell tonight.”

“Red demon on his shoulder,” Hotch whispered.

Reid turned away, walking back down the alley whistling Vivaldi’s _Four Seasons_.

Hotch hurried after the man, walking with his head down and grabbing a brown bag from the trash. He began to stagger, mimicking a drunk and letting his jacket sag over his shoulder. When he came around the corner the man was making a beeline for a woman just exiting a club. He glanced around, but Hotch was pretending to puke into the gutter, so he was clearly no threat. The woman walked around the corner and the man with the parrot followed her. Hotch sped up and managed to grab his arm before he brought a mallot down on the back of the woman’s skull. She saw them, screamed, and ran. The man was uncommonly strong and his bird grabbed Hotch’s hair in two sharp talons and began pecking at his face. Reid dropped down from a fire escape and kicked the man in the nuts, taking him down fast, then threw his shirt over the bird and pinned it to the sidewalk.

“Geraldine wasn’t kidding!” Reid declared, “That little shit nearly took out your eyes!”

“Red demon,” Hotch laughed, cuffing the man, “Red demon on his shoulder!”

Reid giggled and they both burst out laughing. Ried wriggled out of his suspenders and used them to thoroughly restrain the bird while the man swore at them and sobbed brokenly, demanding they leave his ‘precious baby’ alone. Hotch pulled the man up and pushed him against a wall, pulling out his phone and reporting it as a crime stopped in progress.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N The information in this chapter is not meant to diagnose or concretely define either schizophrenia or OCD_.  _Both are complicated illnesses and require more than a single subject to be discerned or understood._

 

“Did you see where that woman went?” Hotch asked once he had the unsub restrained and Reid continued to get the perp’s pet fully restrained.

“Geraldine is stopping her,” Reid replied, “She’ll get her to come back and give you a statement.”

“Thank you,” Hotch told him sincerely, “I mean it.”

“You’re welcome,” Reid smiled, “I’m gonna need a new shirt for this.”

“You got it,” Hotch laughed, “I have a spare in my car. I’ll get it to you before we leave.”

Reid finished tying the bird to a hydrant, both carefully and securely, and stood up, smiling at Hotch with his hands on his hips. Hotch’s eyes were immediately riveted to a pale but lightly muscled chest. He was lanky, but clearly not weak. He also sported a set of scars on his chest that took the smile straight off of Hotch’s face. Reid glanced down and gave his chest a self-conscious look, hand moving up to cover the worst of the damage.

“Your boyfriend?” Hotch asked angrily.

“He was… a bit unstable,” Reid replied.

“Is that cross _burned_ into your skin?”

“Yes,” He replied, glancing down, “He _might_ be part of my religious persecution complex.”

“You might want to stop calling it a complex and start calling it _justification_ ,” Hotch snapped.

The sirens went off as a LEO pulled up, and Reid jumped and backed towards an alleyway.

“Easy, Spencer,” Hotch called, “You’re with me. Nobody’s going to hurt you.”

“I don’t want them to see me like this,” Reid replied.

Hotch planted a hand on the man’s back and shimmied out of his jacket one arm at a time. He held it out and Reid hesitantly moved closer.

“I saw you grab a bag out of the trash…” Reid stammered.

“Do you want to cover up, or not?” Hotch replied.

Reid hesitated a moment longer, inched forward, inched back, and then bolted and grabbed the jacket. He brought it to his face and sniffed it all over before struggling into it.

“How’s it smell?” Hotch asked, struggling to keep the smile off his face.

“Good, actually,” Reid replied, “You have good taste in cologne and appear to be fungus free.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Hotch laughed, shaking his head.

“If you two are done flirting,” The unsub huffed, “I’d like to go to prison where the queers are more manly.”

“I’ll have you know there are _plenty_ of twinks in prison,” Reid argued, “And we’re _very_ sought after.”

“Inside and out,” Hotch chuckled.

The Leo stepped out of the car and helped Hotch put the man into the car. When Hotch turned Reid was shifting from foot to foot looking panicked.

“You okay?” Hotch asked, “Did he spook you?”

“No,” Reid replied, “No. No.”

“Hey, easy,” Hotch soothed, putting a hand out and then pulling it back when Reid jumped skittishly, “Thank you for helping me.”

“Sure,” Reid replied.

“You want some coffee or… something to eat?” Hotch asked.

“Um… Grissom usually gets me a hotel room when I help this much. You know, so I can shower and stuff. I don’t like to sleep indoors, but I _love_ to shower.”

“Sure,” Hotch replied with a nod, “Sure, you can… uh… come back to my place and use mine.”

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll steal from you?” Reid asked.

“No,” Hotch replied, “No, I’m not. I trust you, Spencer. Can you trust me?”

Reid didn’t reply, he just watched them load the criminal into the car and call out for animal control about a ‘crazed parrot’.

“It’s a scarlet macaw,” Reid called to the officer.

“Thanks,” The guy replied, giving him a disgusted look.

“They’ll need to take special care of it,” Reid inserted again, “They can’t be in this type of dry heat for long. He’s going to need humidity.”

“Hey, can you shut him up?” The LEO asked, giving Reid an annoyed look.

“Come on,” Hotch sighed, “I’ll walk you to my car. You can wait there till I’m done here.”

“I can’t sit in a car,” Reid shook his head, “I’m claustrophobic. I’ll stand next to it until you’re done taking my statement.”

“Okay,” Hotch nodded, “But how will I get you back to my house?”

“I know where it is.”

Reid headed around the corner to Hotch’s car and he had a moment of worry that the young man wouldn’t be there when he got back, but he put it aside to deal with the situation at hand.

When Hotch finished up with the LEO, and again with Grissom when he showed up on the scene, he headed back to his car to take Reid’s statement after warning the LEO to stay back because the witness was flightly. As promised, the young woman from the club was back but she was _very_ drunk. She was certain someone had tried to attack her but was half certain it was Hotch. They took her information and put her in a cab. Once Reid had finished his highly detailed description of the events and given his contact info- which was virtually nonexistent, he then told Hotch he’d meet him at his house.

Hotch felt a bit bad watching the young man vanish down an alley, but he headed home nonetheless. When he got there he unlocked his house, flicked on the lights, and set about getting a towel and a change of clothes for Reid. The man was so thin that he doubted much of his would fit him and he’d cut his wardrobe down significantly when he’d moved. He settled on some light sleep pants that he realized he’d never wear since the weather here was perpetually far hotter than he’d remembered. Then he chose a dress shirt he had yet to open from the store and put that out for Spencer as well. He paused at underwear and then decided he’d likely never wear someone else’s briefs. Hotch set up the bathroom, locked the basement door so his entertainment set-up would be safe _just_ in case, and put his gun and laptop in his gun safe. Then he waited. And waited. And waited. Just as he’d started to fall asleep on the couch while lazily palming his crotch he heard a knock on the door. Hotch hurried over, glanced out the peep hole, and let an anxious Spencer Reid into his home.

“Hi,” Hotch grinned, “I was starting to think you’d found something better to do.”

“This is just a shower, right? No sex?” Reid blurted out.

“No sex,” Hotch stated, sobering instantly, “No drugs, no pressure, no lies. You did me a solid and I’m happy to repay it. I put some spare clothes and a clean towel in the bathroom for you. The clothes are clean, too.”

“Thanks,” Reid stated, “Hotels can be really gross. I usually have to sanitize them before I can shower. It takes ages.”

“Well, I’m a bit of a neat freak so you don’t have to worry about that here,” Hotch replied, watching as Reid shifted from foot to foot while glancing around his home. He suddenly put one hand over his left eye.

“Can you shut off the lights?” Reid asked.

“Uh, sure,” Hotch frowned, turning off the porch light, “Are you worried someone followed you?”

“No, I meant the lights inside,” Reid replied, his hand still firmly over his left eye.

“Okay. Sure. Is your eye okay?”

“Yes,” Reid replied, “It’s fine.”

Hotch plunged them into darkness and waited, arms loose at his side in case Reid tried something.

“Thanks,” Reid stated, and he saw a slight motion as the hand came down from his eye.

_He was adjusting it for darkness._

“I guess you’re not used to a lot of light at night,” Hotch chuckled.

“Are you kidding? This is Las Vegas. I’m _sick_ of a lot of light. The bathroom is down the hall to the left, right?”

“Yes, but how did you…?”

“You motioned to it when I came inside. I won’t steal anything.”

“I know.”

“You can search me when I leave, but don’t touch my penis.”

“Yeah, sure,” Hotch huffed in amusement.

“I know you probably have to touch my butt, but just don’t stick anything in it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Hotch replied, “Grissom didn’t…?”

“Oh, lord, no,” Reid replied quickly, his voice coming from the area near the bathroom door, “He was a complete gentleman.”

“Good,” Hotch nodded, “I haven’t known him for long, but I’d hate to find out otherwise what with him being my partner and all. Not that I’d want you to cover that up, or anything.”

“Right. Is there bleach in here?”

“As long as you’re not huffing it, yes.”

“Not huffing it, no,” Reid replied, “That stuff _burns_.”

The door stayed open while Hotch scrubbed the bathroom down… with the lights off and the door open. Hotch hoped he’d taken off his jacket first. The agent sat down on his couch and wondered if he could turn on the television without upsetting the strange young man. He decided against it and went to the kitchen, turning on just the stove light since it was dim. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and decided to lean against the counter to give him as much privacy as possible without heading for the bedroom. It was cool with the lights off and he was soon deep in thought without the hum of electronics to distract him. Reid finished scrubbing the bathroom, shut the door, and started up the shower.

Hotch sat down on the couch, leaving the oven light on, and was soon drifting off again. When he woke up it was to the sound of Reid shuffling about the kitchen.

“Do you mind?” Reid asked softly, “I thought I’d make myself a sandwich.”

“Go for it,” Hotch replied softly, “Did you want to stay the night? I can put you up on the couch or-“

“I’ll be out in an hour. The walls close in on me,” Reid replied.

It took Hotch a moment to place what was odd in the kitchen, but when he did he sat up fully. The fridge was open but there was no light.

“Is the light out in the fridge?”

“Oh, no. I unscrewed the bulb a bit,” Reid replied.

“You really don’t like light, do you?” Hotch replied in amusement, noting the light over the stove was out again.

“It’s… I know it’s crazy,” Reid replied.

“Not liking light? I don’t think that’s crazy.”

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” Reid replied with a sigh, “I get migraines and… sometimes I think I hear voices coming out of the electric hum from lights. It’s not so bad around household lights, but the lights in Las Vegas… it’s overwhelming.”

“That must be awful,” Hotch said softly, “Wouldn’t it be easier if you _weren’t_ homeless?”

Reid laughed bitterly, “You make it sound like I _choose_ it.”

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Hotch replied, “It’s just that Grissom- and he wasn’t talking about you behind your back, he was just keeping me informed- he said you have three doctorates.”

“And a record,” Reid said softly, “Three doctorates and a record. Two records if you count my mental health status.”

“There are ways around that.”

“There aren’t ways around me being afraid of technology,” Reid stated, “Your car radio _terrifies me_ , Aaron. Terrifies. Not just creeps me out like lights do, it’s a full-on irrational fear. Technophobia. I’m actually _grateful_ that you were suspicious enough of me to lock up your laptop.”

“How did you know-?“

“You left the charging cable out. I know what the things I fear look like, Aaron. They haunt my nightmares. In my dreams those cables strangle me. The laptops grow legs and hunt me down, probing my brain and cutting it out of my skull.”

“I can lock that up, too.”

“What else will you lock up?” Reid asked with a self-depreciating laugh, “Your clock radio? I could see its glow on your nightstand from the bathroom. It _pierces_ me.”

“I can unplug-“

“And then there’s the bathroom fan. It was hissing at me even while it was off.”

“Like a snake?”

“I’m not _well_ , Aaron. I know you find me fascinating. Most people do when they first meet me. Well, either that or they find me annoying. Just take my word for it; don’t help me. I don’t want it and I won’t benefit from it.”

Hotch was silent as Reid sat on the barstool at the kitchen island an ate his sandwich. He was quick and when he was done he washed his plate up and drank two glasses of water in a row before washing the cup as well.

“How do you survive?” Hotch asked, having thought hard on what to ask, “You said the lights are a problem for you, but the neon lights are everywhere in Las Vegas. How do you escape them on the streets?”

“This has been very nice, Aaron,” Reid said softly as he moved to the door in the darkness, “Thank you for the use of your shower, the clothes, and the food. I left your jacket hanging in the bathroom. You’ll want to wash it. I don’t think I have lice or flees, but it does happen sometimes. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Hotch said softly.

The door clicking shut sounded far more final than he wanted it to.

XXX

It was an entire month before Hotch saw Reid again. When he did it was while they were hunting for the rest of a man’s remains in the desert. He came across what looked like a damned flying saucer and the dogs started growling. They were wary of whatever was inside and he immediately called it in before slowly approaching. He had his hand on his gun but didn’t draw it. If the killer was there the most effective action would be to release the dog and let it be a distraction while he took the bastard out.

Hotch moved around the strange structure to find that it was hiding the entrance to what appeared to be a mine. He studied the underside and realized it was a harvested billboard from long, long ago when they’d been made of solid metal. This one had been for cereal, hence the round shape.

“I found the entrance to some sort of mine shaft,” Hotch spoke into the device at his ear, “Beneath a billboard. Looks like a flying saucer.”

“That’s Reid’s place,” Grissom confirmed, “Don’t take the dogs near him. They hate him.”

Just as Hotch was about to ask what he was talking about when a set of hands appeared.

“I’m unarmed!” Reid’s voice called, “I have no drugs or weapons! I have committed no crimes and do not consent to a search!”

Hotch flipped off the communicator and grinned, “Even if I promise not to touch your penis or put something in your butt?”

Reid’s head appeared and he gave Hotch an amused grin, “You!”

“You!” Hotch declared back, then pulled hard on the dog’s lead as it tried to launch at Reid.

“Dogs hate me,” Reid stated, “There are no drugs in here.”

“This is a corpse dog,” Hotch replied, “Not a drug dog.”

“There are no _corpses_ in here either,” Reid frowned, “I haven’t seen a corpse around here for three days.”

“Did you call that one in?”

“The buzzards got it,” Reid replied, “I don’t go near them when the buzzards are around. They poop on everything. It’s foul and can spread salmonella and Escherichia coli.”

“That doesn’t stop you from calling it in,” Hotch huffed, “Where was it?”

Reid frowned at him, “I don’t have a cell phone, Hotch. I can’t just _call it in_. I have to walk to a pay phone and call Grissom, then walk them all back. I won’t go back once the buzzards show up. Once the buzzards get them it’s a _mess_. If you guys can’t do your jobs without me than I suggest you hire more cops.”

Reid vanished into his little hole and Hotch was left staring after him feeling much chastised. He pulled the dog away, marking the location on his phone’s GPS and promising himself he’d come back to check on Reid later. He continued on his way, informing Grissom that he was going to search the area around Reid’s shelter because he’d been tipped that a body part might be nearby. He also told them to keep an eye out for buzzards, which got a laugh. Apparently that was old news. Hotch didn’t like being the ‘new guy’. It meant that boss status was there only in title. For now.

Hotch finished off his day and headed back to the hole in the ground long after sunset. He stood outside of it, unsure as to the protocol of entering a homeless person’s… home? He settled on shouting.

“Spencer! It’s Aaron! You home!”

“I’m homeless!” Reid shouted back with a laugh in his voice, “But yes, come on down!”

“Is there… a ladder or…?”

“Yes!”

Hotch came close and shined his flashlight down into the entrance, located the ladder, and turned it off to scramble down blind. He found himself in an area about the size of a door with wooden supports throughout. He walked down the narrow tunnel, wondering how Reid could deal with his claustrophobia in this area. He was soon answered when he came into a natural cave and stared in wonder at the space around him. Pools of water added dancing illumination with candles strategically placed above or in them. The area was huge, and a hammock finished off Reid’s little living space. It was cool, probably all day as well, and had plenty of water that appeared clean from the fact Hotch could stare straight down into the pools. Reid was nowhere in sight and Hotch was hesitant to pry so he waited awkwardly by the entrance. Reid appeared around a stalagmite a moment later.

“Sorry, I was bathing,” He told him, rubbing a towel through his hair. The shirt Hotch had given him was clinging to his chest, “I bathe a lot.”

“I assumed,” Hotch smiled.

“I use biodegradable soap so I don’t hurt the life in here. Please don’t touch the walls if possible. The oils in your hands will damage it.”

“Sure,” Hotch replied, “This is beautiful.”

“Thanks,” Reid smiled as he glanced around, “It’s part of a whole chain of caves that have been used for smuggling. I collapsed the connecting tunnel. I think a cartel made the entrance you came down. Nobody bothers with it anymore so it’s my home.”

“Do some of the others live here, too?”

“The other homeless? Hell, no,” Reid laughed, “They’re in the city where food and money can be found. I hike out here every night when the lights get to be too much for me and hike back in the morning to put on a show for money and food.”

“None of the rest are technophobes?” Hotch asked, “Was that insensitive?”

“No,” Reid smiled, “And no. Most technophobes don’t live here.”

“Not to be insensitive but… why do you? I mean, I get that you haven’t got a lot of money but you could have easily asked me for a bus ticket instead of a shower and I’d have coughed one up.”

“I love this city,” Reid replied, “I mean, I hate it, but it’s my _home_. I can’t leave. My mother is here.”

“So… you visit her often?” Hotch asked cautiously, recalling what Grissom had told him about Reid’s mother.

“Not really. She’s in a nursing home now. She was committed after she threw me out. She has schizophrenia too.”

“Oh, is that what you have?” Hotch asked, “I thought it was some sort of OCD.”

Reid smiled, “I’m sure Grissom mentioned schizophrenia. It’s okay. This is a good day. On good days I don’t get so paranoid. But yes, I’m a paranoid schizophrenic, and part of that is some OCD-like behavior, but it’s related to the schizophrenia not true OCD.”

“What’s the difference?” Hotch asked curiously, sitting on a crate Reid gestured to and accepting a cup of water. It tasted _very_ strongly of minerals so he only took a small sip.

“Well,” Reid considered, “I could give you the technical answer, but I think an example would serve you better. Someone with OCD has to repeat their behavior or words. It isn’t thought about. It isn’t planned. It’s as automatic as breathing and not following through with their ritual can be so stressful that it can be traumatic for them. Someone with paranoid schizophrenia needs to do things in order to not sink into a ‘bad day’. So even though your bathroom was clean, I had to clean it because if I hadn’t the clock in your bedroom would have made me freak out and we’d have had a repeat of the horse incident you walked in on.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” Hotch frowned.

“For an OCD person it _is_ the action, for me the action is like a medication for my already existing mental disease. By avoiding the lights I’m keeping myself from bad days where the walls close in and the voices fill my head and I fall apart.”

“Have you tried-“

“Don’t mention medication,” Reid said softly, “I’ve seen what it does to my mother.”

“So you have seen her?” Hotch asked, jumping on the topic change.

“Sort of,” Reid replied with a sigh, “I go to see her, she refuses to see me, I stare awkwardly through a window beside the doorway for a while and then leave. She’s… blank now. She was a genius. I realize that she had to be locked up, really I do, but…”

“But?” Hotch asked.

“She used to write _doctorates_ ,” Reid insisted, curling his hand into a fist in frustration, “She used to be this shining light of brilliance and now… now she’s just a bigoted old lady with glazed eyes.”

“We all reach a point where the Second Law of Thermodynamics catches up with us,” Hotch said softly, “Some just reach it too soon.”

“She reached it at forty, Aaron. _Forty,”_ Reid gave him a pained look, his eyes wet with unshed tears.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I won’t be like that,” Ried replied, “I know the medicine will help with the hallucinations and paranoia but I _can’t_ give up my mind.”

“But are you _using_ it here?” Hotch asked.

“I am,” He nodded, standing and giving his eyes a rub. He crossed to a plastic tub and fished out a bunch pieces of cardboard.

Hotch stared down at them in confusion. Complicated equations and dozens of hand-drawn maps greeted him. At first he had no idea what they meant, but as he politely paged through them his eyes widened and he realized that he was looking at a detailed study of crime in Las Vegas based on region.

“Spencer this is… This is brilliant.”

“Mm-hm,” Reid nodded dismissively.

The younger man crouched down in front of a little can and dropped a match into it. He blew on it gently and it flared to life. It had holes around the edges in the top and bottom to vent it as he placed a pan overtop. Hotch watched him pour some water in and drop a pouch of instant coffee in. He smiled and hummed happily as he breathed in the scent of the boiling java.

“You want some?”

“I’ll pass,” Hotch replied, “It’s late.”

“I drink it day and night.”

“I got that impression. Another ritual?”

“Of sorts.”

“Would you like another ritual?”

“What sort?” Reid asked, giving him a careful glance.

“I live alone,” Hotch stated, “And like I said, I trust you.”

“For reasons that still baffle me. Everything I know about you so far has you profiled as a cautious bordering on untrustworthy.”

Hotch gave him a soft, half smile, “I see something special in you.”

“Just remember my two rules,” Reid gave him a teasing smile.

“No penis or inside the butt, got it,” Hotch chuckled to Reid’s amusement, “Does that make you a total top?”

“A what?” Reid laughed.

“A power top. A gay man who only tops.”

“You’re going to need to define tops for me,” Reid chuckled.

“You know, pitcher? Giver? Penetrative partner?”

“Wait, wait,” Reid shook his head, pouring his coffee into a chipped mug, “Are we talking about sex here?”

“Well, I…” Hotch floundered a moment as Reid gave him an honestly confused look, “I thought we were, but I guess we weren’t.”

Reid shook his head in amusement, “I seem to exhist in a permanent state of oblivious about sex. My boyfriend was both furious and relieved about it. He wasn’t allowed to be gay either.”

“So you two never…?” Hotch wondered.

“Not at first,” Reid replied, “I was interested but he wasn’t, then he was interested but I wasn’t, and then he started using and I tried to dump him.”

“Good for you,” Hotch replied, and then waited. He knew something was coming.

“So he cornered me one day as I left university and… He tried to get me to try dilauded. I refused, of course. I don’t want to damage my brain. So he followed me to my mother’s home, attacked me, tied me to a chair, drugged me. I don’t know what she saw when she got back from the grocery store. All I know is I came around with the police in the house, her sobbing hysterically, and I was naked, shaking, and covered in sweat. She told them to get me out of her home and that she never wanted me to come back. She wouldn’t even look at me.”

“He raped you?” Hotch asked softly.

“I don’t know,” Reid shrugged, “I wasn’t in any pain, but… I asked for an STD test while I was in prison and it came back negative. Got a year later. I’m clean, but…”

“You were hooked.”

“I got out after only a month. No evidence and I claimed I was forced so… they let me go after my boyfriend…”

“He died,” Hotch said softly.

“Killed by an inmate,” Reid replied softly, “I saw the whole thing. I found myself homeless, hopeless, and loveless on the streets of Las Vegas with the full knowledge of what could make it all go away, and the list of my boyfriend’s friends memorized in my ridiculously big brain. It took me only six months to hit rock bottom. Compared to how long it took me to get degrees I think that’s actually a rather long time for me to learn a very important life lesson.”

“What was rock bottom like for you?” Hotch asked softly.

“Spoken like someone who knows what it looks like for someone else,” Reid smiled softly, “Not for yourself, though. You’re too controlled. You’d never have an addiction.”

“No, not myself. My father,” Hotch replied, “His rock bottom cost my mother her life. Drunk driving accident. We were in the car. I saw the whole thing. He spent years trying to beat the memory out of me. He said he could see my hatred whenever I looked at him.”

“Could he?” Reid asked softly.

“Absolutely,” Hotch stated with conviction.

Reid nodded his understanding, “Mine wasn’t so awful. I woke up one day after being so tripped out that I couldn’t remember my name. I staggered around, puking and pissing myself, completely disgusting, and then I looked up at the wall. I have an eidetic memory. Whatever I read, I memorize. I staggered away, but I remembered what I read on the wall when I sobered up a few hours later I was horrified. It was gibberish. I had written nonsense all over the wall. 2+2=8 and other ridiculous garbage. I realized then I was destroying my mind and I went to a church that had a detox in the basement for people who didn’t want to serve time. They got me clean, put a Bible in my hands and a fiver in my pocket, and sent me on my way.”

“I’m guessing that’s where the Bible ended up,” Hotch smiled, pointing at his small stove.

“No way,” Reid frowned, “That’s _literature._ Fiction, of course, but still literature. It’s in my library.”

Reid pointed to a row of Ziploc bag covered books stacked on a natural shelf. It was over six feet long.

“Impressive,” Hotch replied, nodding admirably.

“For a homeless guy, sure,” Reid nodded, “I miss my books from home. Memorizing them isn’t the same as holding them, smelling them, running my fingers over the pages and spine.”

“You make it sound so intimate,” Hotch smiled.

“Back to sex?” Reid laughed, “Why, Agent Hotchner, I do think you fancy me.”

Hotch laughed, “Maybe.”

“What were you saying about you living alone?” Reid chuckled, “Shouldn’t I get dinner first?”

Hotch shook his head in amusement and dug into his pocket. He hesitated a moment and then made up his mind and held out a set of keys.

“They’re to my place. I’m not there often, I travel for work. You can go there whenever you want to shower or clean, or clean and shower. Whatever you need to do. I just require you _not_ to bring anyone else- or any drugs- into my home.”

“I’m sober,” Reid replied.

“And I hope and pray you stay that way,” Hotch replied, “But I’m not an idiot.”

“No,” Reid replied, accepting the keys and staring at them as if they were plated in gold, “You’re just a federal agent giving a crazy homeless ex-junkie the keys to your house.”

“Not homeless,” Hotch replied, gesturing around him, “You’ve got a home.”

“Not much of a home,” Reid replied, “I have to pee and poop outside.”

“I was wondering about that but I thought it indelicate to ask,” Hotch grimaced.

“Home _less_ ,” Reid muttered, “I’m not homeless, I just have less of a home than other people do.”

“Well,” Hotch smiled as he pushed himself to his feet, “Now you can borrow mine from time to time. Take care of yourself, Spencer, and let me know you’re alive occasionally even if you don’t stop by.”

“You’re not coming back?” Reid asked curiously.

Hotch glanced around, “I don’t want to invade your space. I’m worried I’ll become a bad day to you. You come to me when you’re ready.”

Hotch headed down the narrow tunnel and out into the dark night, climbing into his car and pointing his GPS for civilization.

_Five miles. He treks five miles through the desert every day because the lights bother him. And I can’t stop thinking about him. Why? My experience with men is less than his._

Hotch turned on his car and drove through the darkened night, leaving his strange friend and his strange home behind.


	3. Chapter 3

“Spencer?” Hotch called, moving through his darkened home. He thought he knew what had happened now. Spencer had visited while Hotch had been away and had shut off the entire houses electricity. He didn’t want to alarm the skittish man so he wanted to make sure he wasn’t there before he turned the breaker in the kitchen back on. Hotch hit the master switch and the house began to hum with electricity, random beeps sounded off through the building, and the fridge purred. Hotch listened for a moment, shook his head, focused the flashlight, and turned off all the switches except the one that ran the fridge and stove. Silence descended except for the cycling fridge. The glaring lights that had popped on around the house shut off again. Only the stove’s timer flashed triple zeros. He used his flashlight to find the duct tape in the closet and layered it over the stove’s clock until he couldn’t see it even with his flashlight off. Then he shut off the alarm on his phone, knowing he could sleep in the next morning, opened a window to let the air flow over him, stripped down completely naked, laid down on his sheets, ran his hands down over his body, and simply let himself drown in the silence.

Hotch woke up slowly, the silence almost eerie. The room was growing hotter by the second with the sun rising and he was quickly becoming uncomfortable. He shifted in his bed and rolled over onto his side to stagger up and check the thermostat when he recalled the power was out.

“Shhh,” A voice soothed, “Don’t be alarmed.”

Hotch stilled in alarm and slowly rolled the other way to see Reid sitting in the chair by his desk.

“Spencer?” Hotch asked.

“Sorry,” Reid smiled, “I didn’t know you slept naked. I just wanted to tell you that I was here so you weren’t surprised.”

“I’m… um…” Hotch rubbed at his eyes, “I need a shower.”

Reid smirked, “I’ll wait. I’ll make some breakfast or something.”

“The stove is working,” Hotch muttered, “But the food’s probably all gone bad. I only turned it back on last night.”

“I noticed. I stuck dry ice in your fridge so the food wouldn’t go bad. It’s all still good. Especially if you turned it on last night. Do you like scrambled eggs?”

“Over easy.”

“I’m all over it. Toast? Bacon?”

“Oh gods, yes,” Hotch moaned, dragging himself upright, “Spencer, I hate to do this to you but I need air conditioning. Badly.”

“Yeah, you do,” Reid chuckled, “It’s fine. Today’s a good day.”

Hotch turned on most of the switches and the central air sputtered to life. Hotch went and stood in front of it a vent in just a pair of boxers, groaning as cold air blasted out.

“How do you survive that trek through the desert?” Hotch asked.

“I do it before dawn and after dusk,” Reid replied.

“It’s _three miles_.”

“I know,” Reid chuckled, “Can you believe I was absolutely hopeless in gym class? The first few times I did it I passed out. I’m surprised I didn’t die.”

“So am I,” Hotch frowned, “As long as I’m in the area-“

“No cars,” Reid cut him off quickly, sliding three eggs onto a plate that was already sporting several slices of bacon, “How do you like your toast?”

“Light,” Hotch replied.

“I hate toasters so I use the oven,” Reid replied, “It will just take a moment.”

Reid dropped a few slices down on the rack and shut it, smiling as he turned to the table with Hotch’s plate and his own.

“This is beautiful,” Hotch grinned, “This is fantastic.”

“You’re welcome,” Reid smiled, “I haven’t cooked for anyone in a long time.”

He turned back to the oven and pulled out the toast with a pair of tongs, dropping two slices on Hotch’s plate and a third on his own. He sat down to butter the toast and smirked as Hotch dug into his food with a satisfied moan.

“That’s almost as good as seeing you naked,” Reid winked.

“Oh, we’re back to sex again?” Hotch teased.

“Aren’t we always?” Reid snickered, shoveling more food in his mouth. They ate in silence a moment and then Reid wiped off his mouth and looked up, “Why are we always?”

Hotch blinked a moment, “Back to sex?”

“Yeah.”

“Because we’re both young, attractive men and you’re gay,” Hotch replied, “And apparently I’ve been single long enough to be fascinated by the conscept.”

“Bi,” Reid corrected.

Hotch’s brain went places at that, “Really?”

“Yeah,” Reid nodded, “I love breasts. Who doesn’t?”

“Who indeed,” Hotch replied, voice deepening.

“Do you like penises?” Reid asked.

“I’m… not sure,” Hotch replied, “I’ve been thinking about them… lately…”

“When you were masturbating last night?”

Hotch blinked, “Yes. Yes, last night when I was jerking off.”

“Fascinating,” Reid considered, head cocked to one side, “Was it mine?”

“Your, your, your, penis?” Hotch stammered.

“Yes,” Reid nodded, taking another bite of his food. His face was completely abscent of judgement. He was simply curious as to the facts.

Hotch swallowed his mouthful of food, “Some of the time.”

“Hm,” Reid replied non-commitally, “That’s fascinating. I felt too guilty about our friendship to think about you while masturbating. We are friends, aren’t we?”

“Yes,” Hotch nodded, taking another bite and chewing it while thinking, “I’ve thought of friends before. Female ones, obviously. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

“I’ve never really had friends to think _about_. It’s always been strangers, other students, usually far older than me because I was in college at fourteen. I’m concerned it altered my love-map.”

“Meaning?” Hotch asked.

“I find older people far more attractive than those my own age,” Reid replied, “I was exposed to horny teenagers before I was even close to pubescent, not in an inappropriate way, but teenagers don’t exist in any kind of appropriate way.”

“Right,” Hotch chuckled.

“Of course, it’s possible that my attraction is skewed simply because I’m so much smarter than my peers so the closest I can get to someone tolerable is an elder.”

“How much of an elder?” Hotch asked.

“You’re young for my tastes,” Reid chuckled.

“But your boyfriend?” Hotch asked in confusion.

“He was the exception,” Reid replied, “We had a purely physical attraction. Generally I couldn’t stand to hear him speak, but I was lonely and he was available and fascinated by me. I never annoyed him like I do everyone else.”

Hotch watched him eat in silence for a moment, “You don’t annoy me.”

“I know,” Reid replied softly, “What time do you have to be at work?”

“I don’t!” Hotch declared cheerfully, “I’ve got the day off. So what would you like to do?”

Reid’s smile vanished, “Do?”

“Uhm,” Hotch stilled, “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, no, no, no, no,” Reid replied quickly, “I’m just… I don’t… I have to…”

“You’ve had breakfast,” Hotch stated, “Let me buy you dinner. Then you don’t have to act on the corner today. It’s going to be a hundred and twelve today.”

“I know,” Reid frowned, “I grew up here.”

“Okay so what’s wrong?” Hotch asked.

“I don’t like to change my routine,” Reid replied, visibly taking steps to calm himself down. He was slowly scrubbing an old stain out of Hotch’s table with a napkin.

“Okay,” Hotch replied with a nod, “Would it hurt your routine if I found some shade somewhere- and a _lot_ of very cold lemonade- and watch you perform?”

Reid studied the cracks in the wood, tracing them from top to bottom for several minutes while Hotch ate and waited. He’d finished his coffee before Reid responded.

“I’d like that.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Rise and shine,” Reid whispered.

“Hi,” Hotch stretched, “How’s your day?”

“It’s a good day,” Reid whispered back, “I’m hitting the shower. I cleaned it already so I won’t be long.”

“Great,” Hotch stretched and headed to the kitchen to make coffee while Reid took a shower. Then they switched off with Hotch showering while Reid cooked breakfast.

Hotch had become a part of Spencer’s routine instead of the pit-stop he occasionally made when he couldn’t stand to bathe in the cold cavern streams anymore. Each night Hotch would power on his AC at full blast for an hour before bed, close all the heavy curtains he had over the windows, and then shut off the houses power to everything except the fridge and stove. Then he’d go to bed in the deafening silence and wake up to Reid’s gentle shake in the morning. No more alarm blaring, no intense ache of loneliness when he rolled over and found no one to hold. He still woke up waiting for Jack’s voice, but at least he had someone to smile at when he was ready to face the day. They’d sit down together to eat and have a few cups of coffee. Hotch would head to work first and Reid would spend some time cleaning to pay for his use of utilities before locking up and heading out to the streets of Las Vegas and his one-man show.

This went on for several months until Hotch had become so comfortable with it that it was cathartic. He could talk to Spencer about anything. Nothing seemed to disturb the strange genius. He’d found case files open in Hotch’s home and had commented on them as naturally as if it were the weather. He’d even given him some advice that had panned out, and some that hadn’t. Either way, Hotch was glad to have him in his life and often found himself reaching for his phone with the idea of calling him throughout the day only to remember that Reid had no phone. That and Reid’s continued skittishness about physical contact were the only things keeping Hotch from being truly satisfied with their odd friendship.

Then one day, Hotch woke up in his warm, dark bedroom by himself. His internal clock had woken him up, and a quick check to his phone showed that it was a few minutes after Spencer’s usual wake-up time. Hotch headed out into the rest of the house, worried it was a bad day and perhaps Spencer was anxiously scrubbing the bathroom more thoroughly than usual. He wasn’t in the house.

Hotch dressed quickly, disregarding his shower, grabbed a few bottles of water and some crackers, and headed to his car with a feeling of dread. He kept picturing Reid lying in the desert somewhere with buzzards circling overhead. Hotch drove out to Reid’s home, checking the roads along the way and then scanning the horizon carefully as he traversed the route he thought Reid took. He was kicking himself for not getting a clearly mapped route from Reid, but he couldn’t do anything about it until he _found_ the young man and rescued him if he needed it.

Hotch arrived at Reid’s home without having seen any sign of him along the way. He shouted a few time before simply jumping down into the shaft that lead to his cavern shelter. Hotch ran the dark length of it, finding it pitch black. He pulled out his flashlight after announcing that he was doing so and scanned around the large cavern. He walked it for nearly an hour, carefully searching for Reid. He wasn’t in any of the deceptively deep pools, one of which Hotch fell into up to his knee when it looked like a mere inch of water. He wasn’t in any corners. His hammock was a mess. Hotch knew that Reid hung his blankets and unworn clothes out on a line suspended from the billboard outside every morning. The purpose was to keep them from getting moldy while down in his perpetually damp home, but it was also because he believed the sun naturally cleaned things; it was part of a thesis he was working on.

Hotch checked for a signal, but he couldn’t get one on his phone inside the cave. He headed back out and searched around the area again. Reid’s rope for his clothing and blankets was still standing, so he hadn’t had a fit over that. Hotch called Grissom, ignoring the missed calls on his phone.

“Gil, it’s Hotch. I can’t find Reid anywhere and-“

“Reid?” Grissom cut him off, “Aaron, we’ve been trying to reach you for an hour. Are you okay?”

“Is Reid there?”

“Reid? As in Spencer Reid? No. He’s not here. Where are _you_?”

“I’m at Spencer’s cave.”

“Spencer has a cave?” Grissom asked in confusion.

_Don’t talk behind his back. No. Fuck that. He could be in danger._

Hotch replied, “Look, I can’t find him. I think something happened out here. I know most of his hang outs but I’m already here so I’m going to work this like a crime scene. You go out to-“

“ _Aaron_!” Grissom cut him off, “Why are you looking for Spencer? He’ll show or he won’t. When he has bad days he disappears. It’s just what he does. He’s _homeless_.”

“He’s not homeless he’s…” Hotch cut himself off, “Where does he go when he disappears?”

“Who knows?” Grissom replied, “Hotch, what’s going on?”

“I already told you, I’m looking for _Spencer_ ,” Hotch snapped angrily.

“Yes. Why?” Grissom asked, “The case Shaun brought Morgan today is in California, not Vegas. Last I checked Reid didn’t have any connections in Cali.”

Hotch hesitated a moment, “What time is it?”

“I’m not used to you answering questions with questions,” Grissom stated, “I’m becoming more and more concerned with your mental state. Aaron, has Spencer introduced you to some of his extracurricular activities?”

“I’m not on _drugs_ , Gil!” Hotch snapped, then checked his phone, “I’m late for work. That’s why you’ve been asking me so many questions. Shit. I apologize, I had no idea that so much time had passed. Let me start over. Reid’s been coming over to my house every morning for the past couple of months for nearly three months to shower and eat before going out to his usual street shows. He didn’t show this morning.”

“So he’s having a bad day,” Grissom replied, “I’m surprised it took this long for him to break routine. It normally happens about once a month. He’ll vanish for a while and then he’ll turn up again. Probably in a jail cell. Maybe he’ll ask them to call you instead of me this time. My advice? Don’t bail him out. If he gets used to you paying for him all the time- which it sounds like he already is- than he’s going to keep using you until you’re drained. Both of money and ability to care. Don’t forget, he’s homeless for a reason, Aaron.”

“Yes, because he was abused and then abandoned when he needed support the most.”

“Because he’s an addict and mentally ill,” Gil sighed, “Try to remember that. I’ll cover for you, just get in here as soon as you can. Don’t bother looking for him. He knows this city better than I do.”

Hotch hung up the phone without replying, rubbing at his face as he fought back tears. He took a few deep breaths and then headed back to his car and cranked up the AC. He tried not to think of how hot it was or what state Reid was in, and if he could even manage to _remember_ that he needed fluids to survive. He didn’t manage to stop himself from checking for buzzards on the drive back to the office.

XXX

Hotch had to fly out to California that day, and it required he put thoughts of Reid out of his mind. Thankfully he had a lot of experience in putting things out of his mind. He focused on the case, locked up the bad guy, shot his partner, and headed home with the hope that he’d find the power off again.

It was still on.

XXX

Hotch had taken to driving around the city on his lunch break, keeping an eye out for Reid at every turn. He found Geraldine, but without Reid along she refused to speak to him. Hotch stopped back at the cave each day. He took Reid’s clothes to the dry cleaner and returned them, hanging them up inside his own home. When Reid showed no sign of having returned Hotch carefully moved all his things from the cavern to his own house. He left a note and a candle in a plastic bag at the entrance to Reid’s cave so he wouldn’t be shocked by his stuff being gone. Then he waited, because he refused to believe that Reid was gone if there was no clear proof.

XXX

Hotch walked into his home with a slow sigh, disappointed to see that his lights still turned on. He walked into the house and immediately noticed the mud tracks across his floor. Hotch had his gun out instantly, moving through his home as he watched for movement while following the tracks. Reid was on the kitchen floor in front of the open refridgerator. He was filthy, shaking, thinner than ever, and slowly licking butter off of his fingers.

“Oh my gods,” Hotch breathed, holstering his gun and dropping to his knees, “Spencer, what happened?”

“I had a bad day today,” Reid whispered.


	5. Chapter 5

“You were gone for a _month_ , Spencer,” Hotch told him, reaching out to check his pulse. Reid shied away from him, but didn’t fight when Hotch pulled his collar aside and pressed two fingers against his pulse point.

“Month?” Reid blinked, “I didn’t… I don’t… I feel gross.”

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

“I itch. I didn’t want you to see me like this but you took my stuff.”

“I didn’t want it to get moldy or stolen. When’s the last time you ate?”

“I had some butter,” Reid gestured to the fridge, “I need fat.”

“Okay,” Hotch nodded, “Let’s get you cleaned up. Are you thirsty?”

“Yeah.”

Hotch half-carried Reid to the bathroom and sat him down on the toilet seat. He poured him a cup of water and handed it to him. His hands were shaking as he brought it to his lips to slowly sip it.

“I have to eat and drink slowly,” Reid whispered, “Or my body could go into shock.”

Hotch nodded, and then paused with his hand on the shower nozzle, “Do you want me to clean the tub out first?”

Reid laughed bitter, “Does it matter?”

“It does to you,” Hotch replied, fetching the bleach from under the sink. He opened the window to air the place out and started scrubbing the tub and shower walls. Reid muttered about the spout so Hotch scrubbed that, too.

Once the entire area was scrubbed down he rinsed it twice and then washed his hands before helping Reid out of his clothes. They were completely ruined so Hotch carried them out to the trash. When he came back inside Reid had maneuvered himself into the tub and was sitting there staring at his nails.

“I’m filthy.”

“Yeah,” Hotch replied, kneeling down beside him.

Hotch was relieved to see that Reid’s scars didn’t descend below his torso, but he was horrified to find his feet covered in sores and a deep cut on his thigh.

“What happened here?” Hotch asked, indicating the untreated wound as he adjusted the water temperature. He began to slowly spray over Reid’s body with warm water.

“Don’t remember. I think it was after I was arrested.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” Hotch asked, “Tell them we’re friends?”

“I didn’t want you to see me like that,” Reid told him, “I wasn’t myself.”

“So who were you?” Hotch huffed, “Spencer, I thought you understood that I’m in this for the long haul. I _know_ you’re ill. You told me you were. Hiding it isn’t going to change that fact. I could have been _helping_ you.”

“I don’t want to be a burden,” Reid replied, “I leaned on Grissom too much and now he doesn’t like me anymore.”

“He still likes you,” Hotch sighed, “He speaks very highly of you. He just… he doesn’t care the way I do.”

“You care?” Reid asked.

“Of course I care,” Hotch told him, “You think I give every homeless person keys to my house?”

“You lock your basement,” Reid told him, “And you’d only just met me then.”

“I knew you were special,” Hotch told him miserably, “And I’m sorry about the basement. I have my entertainment system down there and I just got used to locking it before I knew I could trust you. Would you feel safe down there if I shut off the electronics?”

“No,” Reid replied, “I’m not partial to being underground, I just happen to have found the best option in a cave.”

“I made you something,” Hotch told him as he lathered up a rag and began to gently wash the young man, “I’ll show you when you feel better. I think it will make you happy.”

“Okay,” Reid replied, blinking at him miserably.

The stink was slowly dissipating from the bathroom and Hotch was being incredibly careful with Reid’s body. He’d washed each and every limb with the kind of dedication he usually only applied to cases. Reid’s pale skin, burnt in the exposed parts, was revealed as the water ran foul beneath him as Hotch rinsed him off section by section.

“Do you want to wash your privates yourself?” Hotch asked, having finished with Reid’s torso.

“No,” Reid gave him a miserable stare, “I’m disgusting. I don’t want to touch _any_ part of me. If I could crawl out of my skin right now I would. Do you have a razor?”

“Not the kind that removes skin,” Hotch frowned, “I’m going to wash the front first and then the back, but I’ll need you to move to a different position for that. Can you?”

“Yeah,” Reid replied.

Hotch rinsed out the rag and lathered it up again, gently washing Reid’s limp member and his testicles. He slid the rag down along his taint and focused on the hair around his shaft. Reid’s prick stirred, hardening a bit from the attention, but Hotch wasn’t trying to stimulate him so it passed quickly once he’d rinsed him off.

“Okay, kneel up.”

Hotch swallowed hard before kneeling down and washing the surface of Reid’s buttocks. There was a bruise on one side but nothing obviously traumatic. He was terrified about what he’d find when he spread his cheeks to wash his more intimate parts, but he knew he had to. At best he’d be filthy, at worse he’d find blood and other fluids.

Hotch almost sighed in relief to find that Reid was just normal-level filthy around his asshole. He washed him quickly and rinsed him off while holding one plush cheek aside.

“Well, that’s humiliating,” Reid stated, “I guess any attraction you’ve ever had for me is gone now.”

“Well, I’m not exactly aching for you right now,” Hotch chuckled, “But don’t discredit yourself just yet. Come on. I’ll give you one final rinse and then I’m tackling your hair.”

“I think I have fleas or lice,” Reid warned.

“I haven’t seen any, but your scalp is in pretty bad shape. I think your head is burnt. The skin’s peeling pretty badly.”

“Oh,” Reid frowned, “That explains it.”

Hotch rinsed his trembling friend off and then helped him sit back down without falling. He soaped up his hands and had Reid turn in the tub so his back was facing him. Then he had him lean back and set about scrubbing his hair thoroughly. Reid whimpered in pain but made no protest. His hair when rinsed ran almost black. Hotch scrubbed it a second time and this time it ran red. Reid had a head wound hiding underneath the chunks of matted hair.

“I think you were attacked,” Hotch frowned.

“Cop threw me to the ground. Banged my head up.”

“You get a name? Badge number?” Hotch frowned.

Reid shook his head slowly.

“I think you need to go to the hospital. Between this head wound and the gash on your leg I want you looked at.”

“I… I can’t,” Reid whimpered, beginning to shake more violently, “Please don’t take me there. The machines _scream_ like they’re being murdered and it smells like death.”

Hotch didn’t reply, he just helped Reid out of the tub and gently dried him off. He then helped him to the kitchen and put a bowl of fruit in front of him while he searched for his first aid kit. A few minutes later and his exam of both injuries left him feeling less distressed until he asked Reid a few questions about how he was feeling and some of it lined up with a concussion.

“Can we at least _try_ the hospital?” Hotch asked worriedly.

“No,” Reid shook his head, “Please don’t. I’ll run. You’ll never see me again.”

Hotch stood there considering the risk of taking him and if it weighed out to Reid never coming back. He didn’t think his life was in danger, but he didn’t want to lose him in either way. He also had no doubt that Reid was serious in his threat.

“Okay. We’ll deal for now. No hospital, but if you seem worse in an hour or two I’m making you go. I’d rather lose a friend than bury one.”

“That’s fair,” Reid replied with a nod.

“Good,” Hotch nodded, “Now let’s get proper food into you.”

“Slowly,” Reid replied.

“Yes, slowly,” Hotch nodded, “We’ll start with a glass of milk. Then I’ll make pancakes.”

“Salt,” Reid replied, “I need to replenish my sodium levels. I should eat something salty.”

“Salty like chips?” Hotch asked.

“Yeah,” Reid nodded, “Lots of water and some chips. Tomorrow I can eat a proper meal.”

“Sounds a bit odd, but I’ll go with it,” Hotch nodded, turning to fetch him a bag of chips, “Tell me what happened, Spence. I’m not going to judge you. I just want to know so I can help you more next time.”

“Why?” Reid asked, accepting the chips and staring at them miserably, “Why do you want to help me? I’m hopeless.”

“I don’t believe that,” Hotch replied, sitting in the other stool, “Do you want me to shut off the lights?”

“No,” Reid replied softly, “I think… I think I might be afraid of the dark today.”

“Is that going to last?” Hotch asked.

“No,” Reid replied, shaking his head softly, “It’s just that my fears are worse than the humming.”

“If I could give you both light and silence, would you be okay?” Hotch asked.

“No,” Reid shook his head again, “I’ll never be okay, Aaron. I’d be better, though. Just a bit.”

“Okay,” Hotch nodded, “Think you can walk through the back yard?”

Reid nodded and Hotch helped him stand, flicking on the floodlight for his back yard. He walked Reid out into the yard and across to the new shed he’d had installed. It was larger than the last but not by overmuch. The important part was that it was away from the power lines on the right side of the yard. Inside Hotch had set up all of Reid’s things along with a few surprises.

Reid’s eyes widened as Hotch opened the door and lit a lantern on a wooden filing cabinet in the middle of the shed. Hotch had made the lantern out of a large glass jug and some metal piping. On either side of the cabinet were two stuffed chairs. Hotch moved around them to the window at the back where a ledge sheltered two candles. He lit each and then stood aside to let Reid take in the area around him. On all four walls, above the door and beneath the window, were shelves filled with Reid’s books and numerous others Hotch had moved from his home to Reid’s little shed. To the right was a captains bed with thick pillows beneath a small window. Above it hung another lantern made from a wine bottle. Hotch lit that while Reid sniffled slightly, walking around the chairs and staring down at the woven rug.

“Your hammock got moldy,” Hotch told him, “I managed to salvage most of your blankets. I hope they didn’t have sentimental value.”

Reid sniffled again, his lower lip trembling, “This is… Aaron…”

“I was hoping you’d be happy,” Hotch frowned.

“This is… mine?” Reid whispered.

“All yours for as long as you want it. Half of that bookshelf is a door. Just pull that handle,” Hotch indicated the one to the left of the doorway, “There’s a room behind it, but it’s pretty small. I put in a skylight in addition to the window it had to make it less claustrophobic for you. There’s a camp bathroom in there complete with solar shower. I’m still tiling it, so it’s not really operational yet. I was thinking of getting you a grill for the porch, and of course a few jugs of water wouldn’t go amiss.”

“It’s backwards,” Reid sniffled.

“The… the shed?” Hotch asked in alarm. That would be _very_ difficult to correct.

“The gift,” Reid sniffled miserably, accepting a tissue Hotch handed him, “In the Disney adaptation of _Beauty And The Beast_ it was Beast who gave Belle a library, not the other way around.”

Hotch crossed the room and wrapped his arms around Reid, pulling him in for a hug despite the fact the young man normally shied away from contact, “Spencer, you _are_ beautiful. Mind and body.”

“Will you sit with me for a bit?” Reid asked, indicating the chairs. Hotch nodded, separating and watching as Reid walked around the shed in a circle, reaching out to stroke the binding of his books. He returned to the chairs and sat in the one Hotch hadn’t chosen.

“There’s even a peep hole,” Reid laughed a bit, staring at the dutch doors, “And I can just open half. I’ll feel so _safe_ here.”

“Oh!” Hotch stood up, “I forgot about the floodlight. Let me turn it off. It will cut down on the hum for you.”

Reid gave him a radiant smile and Hotch headed back for the house. He grabbed the chips, an apple, and a few bottles of water, along with a couple of towels and a roll of toilet paper since he hadn’t set up the place to be lived in yet. He shut off the floodlight and headed for the shed with a flashlight to light the way. He shut it off when he got into the shed again.

“I just want you to know,” Hotch told him, “This isn’t me un-inviting you to my house. You’re welcome any time, and you’re still free to shut off the power if you need to.”

“Thank you,” Reid smiled at him, accepting the food and putting the bag on the floor in easy reach. He opened a bottle of water and sipped it slowly.

“I was going to use the basement,” Hotch told him, “Because it’s easier to cool, but unfortunately when I spent some time down there I noticed it was fairly loud down there. Is there anything I can do to make this more comfortable?”

“I can’t imagine,” Reid stared around him in amazement, “This is wonderful. And all the curtains are blackouts? I can just shut them and… it will be so dark.”

“The only downside is heat. You’d bake in here some nights.”

“I’d open everything at night and then close it up by day, pulling all the curtains. Your house is far enough from the neighbors and the city that I’d be okay, especially with where you put the shed. Maybe I could put up some awnings?”

“Absolutely,” Hotch nodded, “Whatever you need to do.”

“Why?” Reid asked, giving him a baffled look, “Why did you do all this for me?”

Hotch took a deep breath, “I think it would be better if we talked about that on one of your good days.”

Reid blinked, “Saying that is going to cause me a _lot_ of problems, Aaron. I’m going to think of a thousand reasons, most of them unsavory. I’ve already thought of seven.”

“Okay,” Hotch nodded, “Fair enough. Just promise me you’ll talk this out with me rather than run from me?”

“No,” Reid stated flatly, his entire body stiffening. His cheek twitched anxiously.

“It’s nothing bad, it’s just…” Hotch shifted uncomfortably, “I realized after you vanished and I couldn’t stop worrying about you… well… Spencer, I’m in love with you.”

“Love?” Reid asked, blinking in surprise, “You’ve never been interested in men.”

“I’m still not,” Hotch replied, “I’m interested in you. And I _do not_ expect anything from you. I’m just telling you the truth. I cherish your friendship, Spencer. I don’t want to lose it.”

“But I’m…” Reid struggled for a moment so Hotch answered for him.

“Brilliant,” Hotch stated firmly, “Funny. Sweet. Endearing. Adorable. Warm.”

“Warm?” Reid chuckled.

“You are,” Hotch smiled a bit, “Your personality is _warm_. Not cloying, just warm and comfortable.”

“Well,” Reid smiled, “At least I’m not _cloying_.”

Hotch smiled down at his hands. Reid hadn’t returned the sentiment, but he wasn’t running either. They sat in silence for a while with Reid just staring around his home in amazement. After a few handfuls of chips he experimented with opening and shutting the windows and half-door. All of them were screened except the door, but some mosquito netting took care of that. The skylights could be shuttered as well.

“This really is amazing,” Reid whispered, nearly falling into the chair.

“You’re tired,” Hotch told him softly, “Lie down. Rest. I’ll stay and make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m exhausted,” Reid replied, standing on shaky legs. Hotch put a hand under his arm but it wasn’t necessary. Reid was calmer and had replenished a bit in the time he’d been there, “It _is_ hot here, though. I’d need to sleep undressed.”

Hotch didn’t point out his previous nudity. He figured things had changed based on his disclosure; “I’ll turn my back. You climb under the sheet. It should be light enough.”

Hotch turned in the chair and Reid shuffled for a bit before indicating that he was ready for Hotch to turn. Hotch resumed his previous position and smiled at the sight of Reid’s slim form outlined in the sheet. He had it pulled up to his waist, his chest bare and his arms thrown over his head to reveal wisps of armpit hair. He stretched in his bed and moaned in obvious relief.

“This is _glorious_ ,” Reid breathed.

Hotch didn’t reply. He wanted Reid to fall asleep soon and the young man didn’t need him to distract him. He rolled around a few times, clearly glorying in the feel of the bed, and then finally settled. Hotch watched his breathing change and knew he’d be awake for hours. He was used to stake-outs that meant no coffee since pee breaks were few and far between. He’d make it the night.

Throughout the night Hotch woke Reid periodically to pour water down his throat and coax him into eating a bit of food. Despite Reid’s insistance the night before he readily accepted meat when Hotch pressed it on him, deciding the protein was more needed than empty carbohydrates. In the morning he slipped out and made a full breakfast for him, bringing it in on a tray table. He sat it down beside Reid’s bed, shut and covered all his windows to ward off the morning heat, and slipped out to give him some privacy. When he glanced out the window while he was doing the morning dishes he saw Reid on the rocker on his porch, smiling softly as he read a book and slowly ate the food he’d left him.

After an hour had passed Reid made his way inside and shuffled towards the bathroom. Hotch left him to it and he eventually shuffled out.

“I’m too tired to go out into the city,” Reid told him softly, “But it’s going to be a scorcher. Can I stay in here?”

“Of course,” Hotch smiled warmly, “My home is yours.”

“I can manage the air,” Reid said, “I’ll just unplug some things from one room.”

“Take my bedroom,” Hotch replied, “It’s the easiest to cool off.”

“Aren’t you tired?”

“Yes,” Hotch nodded, “But I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Day off?”

“Called out,” Hotch smiled, “I need you fit or I won’t be able to focus on work.”

“I’m going to fall apart again,” Reid told him, eyes darkening in worry, “I know you want to help, but indulging my issues isn’t exactly healthy for either of us. There’s a reason I force myself to face my fears every day.”

“I know,” Hotch told him, “I want to be your safe harbor.”

Reid studied him silently for a moment and then nodded, “I’m not ready to sleep again just yet. I want to sit up for a bit. Want to hear what happened?”

“Yes,” Hotch nodded.

Reid gestured to the couch and Hotch hurried around, unplugging lamps and the television. He sat opposite him and Reid took a slow, steadying breath.

“It all started… I don’t know what day. I’ve lost track of time. Basically, I woke up in the morning to find my emergency radio had fallen from where I keep it. Maybe a lizard or something pushed it; I don’t know. The end result was that it hit the ground and started hissing. White noise. It went through my skull and I woke up screaming in pain.”

Hotch wanted to reach out and hold his hand but there was so much unsaid between them. He held his comments and the longing in his heart and listened as Reid closed his eyes, laid his head back against the couch, and related his long, sad tale.


	6. Chapter 6

Reid squinted as the wires whined over his head. They let out the highest pitch sound. The light bulbs from the various neon signs let out varying pitches of hums. If he were around them long enough they began to talk, whispering horrible things to him over the street noise. If Reid shouted loud enough sometimes he could drown them out, so he stood on the street corner with a hat on the ground and recited the books that had warmed him when the nights were the loneliest.

Reid was in the middle of reciting page twenty of the Quran when someone decided what he was saying was offensive. Reid had read the Quran out of curiosity, just as he’d read the Bible, Torah, and numerous other religious writings. He had no particular affinity for one or the other, but this one had popped into his head that day. A man had passed him on the street, realized what he was quoting, and turned on him in fury.

Reid didn’t register much of what he said. He knew the man was offended that an unbeliever was speaking the word of Allah, but his mind wasn’t equipped to handle the rage directed at him. He saw the man’s face and it simply morphed in front of his eyes into that of a demon. Reid screamed, backing up in terror, but the man kept coming at him. He turned to flee, leaving his hat and money behind. He was down several alleys, into the areas that were quiet, when the screams caught up with him. These weren’t the same sounds that came from the electronics around him. These were worse. These were inside his head.

There was nowhere to go. No way to escape. He ran screaming and confused. The police intervened and he found himself beaten, thrown to the ground, cuffed, and shoved into a car. He screamed for help, he begged for release, he sobbed until they tossed him into a pen. Then he slept for a while, miserable but comforted by the thick walls, until his mind came after him again. Then he was screaming and climbing the bars of the holding cell. Reid was quickly moved to psychiatric where they pumped him full of medication until he was able to sleep again.

Reid found himself calm. At ease. His head clear. The lights silent. The walls less pressing. And his mind was as dull as a crumbling brick. He couldn’t read more than a page a minute. He couldn’t absorb it. He hated himself more than ever.

Reid passed their tests. He always did. There wasn’t a test they could throw at him that he couldn’t pass, even with his head fuzzy from medication. So he was released, giving Aaron’s address as his own. They gave him cab fare to go there, but he couldn’t handle the cab. He went in one side and then out the other half a block away. He fled to the nearest bridge and climbed up to the metal beams beneath it. Cloistered in the dark, cold, wet area beneath the bridge on the cement ledge between beams, Reid lie there and let the sounds of the cars drown out his mind as he withdrew from the medication.

Finally, he all but fell down from the bridge abutment and wandered his way to Aaron and safety.


	7. Chapter 7

Hotch woke up in the morning and stood at his kitchen sink looking out the window into his back yard. He saw Reid sitting on his little porch, one foot pushing his rocking chair as he read a book by the light of the rising sun. He had a cup of coffee sitting on the porch rail, so he must have been inside already since he didn’t like the instant coffee he had in what he’d started to call his ‘cabin’. He was smiling softly and seemed much recovered from the previous days.

Hotch collected his own cup and headed outside in his sleep pants. He crossed to where Reid sat and waited for a welcoming smile before stepping up onto his porch.

“Good morning,” Hotch nodded, leaning against the wall.

“Morning. You want me to get you something to sit on?” Reid asked.

“No, I’m fine,” Hotch smiled, “You look well.”

“I’m… better,” Reid replied, “For now. Until the next meltdown.”

“Do they happen often?”

“Every month or so,” Reid replied, “It’s not a definite cycle, and sometimes it gets triggered by something so it will happen more often. It’s actually been a really long time and I… I got too comfortable.”

“What sort of triggers should I avoid?” Hotch asked.

“Most things happen during the day,” Reid replied with a frown, “I don’t think you’d do anything to trigger it. You respect my space, so…”

“I’ll continue to,” Hotch nodded.

“Thank you,” Reid replied softly, glancing up at him.

“I did have to wash you that day,” Hotch told him, “I hope you know that I viewed it as a professional act, not a sexual one.”

“I know,” Reid nodded, “I viewed it as… both.”

“That’s okay,” Hotch nodded.

“I liked it,” Reid told him softly, staring down at his book.

“That’s okay, too.”

“Is it weird?”

“No.”

“Crazy?”

“Definitely not.”

“What does it make us?” Reid asked.

“At the moment?” Hotch sipped his coffee, “Neighbors and friends who shared a slightly sexy bath at one point. That’s almost frat brothers.”

Reid chuckled and downed the last of his coffee, “So what are you doing today?”

“Heading to work,” Hotch replied, “Do you want me to drop you off in the city proper?”

Reid considered it, “Not yet. I’m still… recuperating. I’ve never actually had the opportunity to spend some time healing after episodes. It’s very cathartic.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re taking the time for yourself,” Hotch smiled, “When you’re ready to start your routine again just let me know and I’ll drop you off so you don’t have to walk all the way out there. Unless you prefer to, of course.”

“Walk through 112 degree weather or take an air conditioned car? Hm… I’ll walk,” Reid smirked.

Hotch sighed, “I forgot about your aversion to cars.”

“I wish I were in a place where I could take the subway,” Reid replied, “I like the subway.”

“What about he monorail?”

“Don’t have the money most of the time, and it doesn’t go out to the desert… or to here now that I live here,” Reid shrugged, and then gave him a wide-eyed vulnerable look, “I can live here?”

“Yes,” Hotch assured him, smiling softly, “For as long as you want.”

“I don’t want to take advantage of you,” Reid frowned.

“Let’s see…” Hotch considered, “You cost me _no_ electricity, little water and food…”

“So this was free, was it?” Reid knocked on the porch railing.

“I needed a new shed,” Hotch replied.

“With a library, bed, and furniture in it?”

“Better than a shed full of tools,” Hotch shrugged.

Reid laughed, “I just don’t want you to think of _yourself_ as the tool. I remember what you said, Aaron, about how you feel about me.”

“That only makes me want to help,” Hotch said softly, “It makes me worry about you. It doesn’t make me turn those feelings into actions. Those are decisions on my part. You didn’t ask for anything, I gave.”

“For which I’m eternally grateful,” Reid replied, closing his book and standing up, “I’ve never had a friend like you before.”

“I’m honored,” Hotch replied with a soft smile, “But I have to get to work. You’ll be okay?”

“Yeah,” Reid nodded.

Hotch stepped off the porch, but Reid called his name so he stopped and turned back. Reid hesitated a moment and then stepped forward, looking down at Hotch from their new height difference. He reached out and ran a finger along Hotch’s jaw. Hotch swallowed hard.

“You don’t owe me anything, Spencer. I did it because I wanted to.”

“I know,” Reid replied, “And I want to kiss you.”

Hotch held himself still, waiting for Reid to make the first move. The only thing he did was wet his lips and continue to meet the younger man’s eyes. He wanted Reid, but he wasn’t even sure what way he wanted him. He fantasized about him sometimes, but he fantasized about women more often and other men not at all. This was a defining moment. If his fantasies held true, if he responded to _real_ Reid the way he responded to fantasy Reid, then there might be more to this than him helping a dear friend.

Reid cupped the side of Hotch’s cheek and leaned in slowly. Hotch’s eyes stayed open, but Reid’s fluttered shut a moment before his lips pressed to Hotch’s. The older man couldn’t stop the moan that welled up in his throat. Reid shied away and Hotch licked his lips again, telling himself not to leap at him. Reid didn’t need to be terrorized by a horny FBI agent.

Reid turned away a moment, pulling at his own hair but when he turned back Hotch put his hands up, “It’s fine.”

“No, I want to.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I _want_ to,” Reid replied angrily, “Just not yet.”

“After you’ve recovered,” Hotch soothed, “We have all the time in the world.”

“Yeah,” Reid nodded, turning and hurrying into his little area. Hotch heard the cranks turning as he closed his windows for the heat that was descending on them. He’d keep the cool in so his area wasn’t an oven.

“Hey!” Hotch called, “At noon hit the AC inside for a bit, okay?”

Reid didn’t reply, but Hotch knew he’d heard him so he headed to work. When he got home Reid was curled up on the couch in the dark, sound asleep. He hadn’t turned on the air, but with the lights out the house was cooler than it was outside. Hotch left him to it and slept in his room in the nude like before. When he woke again it was to find Reid standing over him again, his face flushed and his eyes flickering nervously. The sounds in the house let him know that the electric hadn’t been turned off.

“I’m ready to try again,” Reid said softly, “Will you come over to… over to my house? To my home? I want to… I want to hold you in _my_ bed.”

Hotch pushed himself upright, staring up into Reid’s eyes, “I’d like nothing more, but are you sure you’re ready for that?”

“N-not for sex,” Reid replied, “Just to hold. Can we do that? Or is it teasing?”

“It’s not teasing if you’re clear with me,” Hotch replied, “That lets me know what to expect and how far to go.”

“Okay,” Reid smiled softly.

“Can you step outside so I can dress? Unless you’d like to stay?”

Reid hesitated and then nodded, shifting back to lean against his dresser. Hotch smirked a bit and stood, grabbing his cell to use as an alarm and wrapping a light robe around his shoulders. They headed out to the back yard, Hotch smiling as butterflies danced in his belly. He felt like a teenager again, especially with Reid glancing over his shoulder at him.

The hut was warm, but not overwhelmingly so. Reid had a damp sheet hanging over his bed to draw moisture in and Hotch was impressed by it’s use. They climbed beneath it and the convection cooled their skin from a few inches overhead. Hotch slipped out of his room when Reid motioned for him to do so and he watched by the light of a single candle as Reid slipped his own robe and boxers off. Reid was halfhard and Hotch wasn’t far behind, but he kept his hands carefully to himself as Reid slipped into the bed with him. Reid pinched out the candle and then snuggled up against him.

“This is warmer than I imagined,” Reid whispered.

Hotch chuckled, “You can come back to mine if you can handle the air conditioner.”

“I think I’ll just deal with the heat,” Reid replied, snuggling into him.

Hotch was uncomfortable, but he didn’t want to upset Reid, “Can I put an arm around you? And shift a leg between yours?”

“Y-yes,” Reid replied hesitantly.

Hotch moved his arm slowly over Reid’s body, noting his flesh was cool from his sweat. They were adjusting to the heat already. Hotch shifted his leg between Reid’s as he lifted his knee for him and their groins lined up. Hotch hadn’t thought that part through and he began to harden instantly.

“I’m used to cuddling people who have bits on the inside,” Hotch blurted out, and then laughed at himself. Reid snickered and his hips rolled a bit. Hotch gasped and Reid whimpered.

“Was that bad?”

“No,” Hotch replied softly, “I’m just trying to contain myself. You’re very attractive, Spencer.”

“I don’t mean to be. I don’t feel like I am.”

“You are,” Hotch replied softly, “You definitely are. May I kiss you?”

“Yes,” Reid replied softly, lifting his chin a bit.

Hotch found the corner of his lips in the darkness, pressing a soft kiss there, and then moved to the center. Reid moaned softly and Hotch echoed the sound. He could feel Reid’s member twitching against his own and it sent the blood rushing to Hotch’s cock. Instead of a slow build he was growing hard fast. Reid let out a soft sound of amazement and then pressed in closer. Hotch groaned and Reid pulled back in alarm.

“It’s okay,” Hotch panted, “It’s fine. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do. I can’t control the erections, but I won’t touch you.”

“I want you to,” Reid whimpered, “I do, but I don’t. It isn’t fair.”

“I’m sorry,” Hotch whispered, “I wish I could heal you.”

Reid moved closer and pressed their bodies together, pressing their lips firmly together. Hotch was surprised by the invading tongue, but not disappointed. He found Reid’s mouth sweetened by toothpaste, even if his kiss was juvenile and unskilled. Hotch gripped his jaw and gentled his motions, guiding him by moving his tongue slowly in and out. Reid whimpered, trembling against him as his body responded eagerly to the suggestive caresses.

Hotch never wanted it to stop but Reid pulled away with a soft sigh, “Is this… can we…?”

“Anything,” Hotch promised.

“Can you leave?” Reid whimpered, “Please?”

“Of… of course,” Hotch replied, “You’ll have to stand up so I can…”

“Thanks,” Reid pulled away and Hotch shifted out of the bed, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Hotch replied, standing in the middle of Reid’s little home, “Just… tell me what I did wrong.”

“Nothing,” Reid replied softy, “You’re perfect. Too perfect. This can’t be real.”

“You’re afraid I’m a figment of your illness?” Hotch asked in alarm.

“You have to be,” Reid replied miserably, “I can’t-“

“Spencer, I’m real,” Hotch told him firmly.

“What do you think _the voices_ say to me?” Reid asked miserably.

Hotch ran his hand through his hair, “I don’t know what to say. I want you. I care about you. You’re the most impressive person I’ve ever met.”

“I’m a homeless nut job-“

“You’re a brilliant man with demons,” Hotch cut him off, raising his voice just a bit, “I want can’t stop thinking about you. Spencer, I don’t want anything except your company. If touching is too much-“

“It’s not, reality is,” Reid sobbed, shifting in the dark. Hotch wanted to hold him but he didn’t think he should.

“What can I do?”

“I don’t know. Come with me tomorrow?”

“Where?”

“To someone I know is real,” Reid replied, “If they tell me you’re real and this is real than I’ll believe you.”

“Okay,” Hotch nodded, “After work?”

“Sure,” Reid nodded, “Meet me at my usual corner.”

“I will,” Hotch replied, “Is it okay to leave you like this? I can sleep in the chair-“

“No. I… I want you to go. I’m sorry. I’m-“ Reid sobbed again, and Hotch saw his silhouette move again, but then heard the bed creek, “Please go.”

“Okay,” Hotch replied softly, picking up his cell phone and robe from the floor, “I’ll go, but… promise me you’ll come and get me if it gets to be too much? I’ll turn off the electricity again.”

“Go,” Reid whispered softly.

Hotch hurried away, his body still aching despite the lack of an erection. He was too distressed to masturbate so he paced anxiously for a while in his dark living room. He glanced out the window occasionally but not even a candle flickered from Reid’s home. Hotch dressed in the morning, glanced out again to find Reid’s home boarded up for the daytime heat. He knocked once, but Reid didn’t answer and he hoped he wasn’t inside during the heat. Hotch headed for work and dealt with the day, including a trip to a prison to interview a convict. Once he was done he headed for Reid’s corner and found the young man standing there with an old gentleman by his side.

Hotch found a parking spot and headed over to where Reid waited with red-rimmed eyes. The man beside him smiled at Hotch as he approached.

“Well now,” The man croaked, “Is this your gentleman?”

“Aaron Hotchner,” Hotch stated, holding out his hand, “My friends call me Hotch.”

The man shook Hotch’s hand and the agent refused to wipe his hand on his trousers. The man stank and he could see bugs crawling through his hair. Reid was giving him a wide berth despite their apparent friendship.

“Hotch,” The man grinned, his rotting teeth making Hotch’s stomach turn, “I’m Charles. You like boy genius, here?”

“Very much, sir,” Hotch replied politely.

“Let’s talk,” Charles smiled, pulling Hotch away by his elbow. He wondered if he’d be able to save the jacket.

“Spencer is a… special young man,” Charles told him, “He needs a tender hand.”

“I want him to be happy,” Hotch replied, “I made him a little house in my back yard- well, more of a library, actually.”

“That was real?” Charles laughed, “I thought he’d dreamt that up!”

“Does that happen often?”

“Not that I know of,” Charles replied, “He sometimes hears voices, but he hasn’t really seen things beyond a few flashes when he’s really distressed. I was worried he’d finally snapped. So have you really told him he doesn’t have to bend over for you?”

“Not ever,” Hotch replied, “But it’s not because I’m a saint or a hallucination. It’s because I’m not sure I’m interested in men. I’m fascinated by him, drawn to him, and certainly in love with him, but I’m not sure I can follow through physically.”

Hotch was surprised he’d spilled his guts to the man and his thoughts must have shown as he stared at the man before him in confusion.

“I know,” Charles nodded, “People tell me things. They spill their guts. A sort of… residual effect of being a priest.”

Hotch nodded, “Can you help me with Spencer? I just want him to be happy.”

“Define happy?” Charles asked.

Hotch frowned, “I can’t. It’s a feeling, which makes it subjective. Technically only Spencer can define his own happiness; I just want to know how to help him achieve it. Would he be happier persuing a relationship with me? With someone else? Or perhaps not at all?”

Charles shook his head in amusement, “As you just said, only _he_ can answer that, but I do still want your answer. What is happiness to _you_?”

Hotch frowned, “My version is… more material than Spencer’s.”

“Explain.”

“I… I like to look nice so… suits. Ah… my job. It’s part of my pride.”

“Health?” Charles asked.

“Well, of course,” Hotch frowned.

“Mental health?”

Hotch shifted uncomfortably, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Charles asked in a tone of disbelief.

“I see the worst of society every day. People who are severely mentally ill, people who appear to be soulless. I have faced down abusers, murderers, rapists, pedophiles, and cannibals. All I know is that Spencer is none of those things, that whatever his mental state might be, his heart is beautiful.”

“Well,” Charles smiled, “That’s good enough for me. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go tell Spencer that you’re real… well, as real as any of us are.”


	8. Chapter 8

Reid sat anxiously at the table while Hotch read the menu. Or tried to. The second Reid had given him that look of relief and excitement Hotch had asked him to go out to dinner with him… if he could manage it. Reid had immediately given him a list of restrictions and Hotch had plugged them into his phone and gotten a total of two restaurants that fit Reids criteria for tolerable. He’d reserved a table and bought the young man a new suit. Except that once they’d gotten there he’d found the place far fancier than he’d imagined.

“I can read French,” Reid told him after letting Hotch squirm uncomfortably for a while.

“Thank goodness,” Hotch sighed, handing the menu to him, “Nothing with snails, please.”

Reid chuckled, “Any food allergies?”

“Not that I know of, but then I’ve never been to France so…”

“Right, no snails and nothing that doesn’t grow around here,” Reid smiled, ducking behind the menu, as he laughed a bit.

He ordered their food and then sat happily in his chair, staring at the indoor waterfall display with dreamy eyes. Hotch watched him with a similar expression. He couldn’t believe he was in love with a man, but if he had to fall for someone of his same gender than at least it was this beautiful genius. Hotch smiled at him fondly before deciding the silence, while comfortable, had gone on long enough.

“So, tell me what you’ve been working on lately,” Hotch asked.

“Mm, still the geographic profiling,” Reid considered, “And lately I’ve just been wallowing in insanity.”

“Okay,” Hotch chuckled, shaking his head, “So what are you thinking of delving into next?”

“Well, I’m finding the contradiction between my phobias fascinating so I was thinking of doing some psychological research at the local library. With clean clothes I should be able to go inside and stay there as long as I like.”

“So what are you thinking? Not quite claustrophobia?”

“Yeah, maybe agoraphobia,” Reid replied, “Except in reverse? The mind can be very complicated, psychology can be limitless.”

“Hm,” Hotch nodded, “I wish I could get Gideon or Rossi out here. They’d be thrilled to talk to you. They were my mentors.”

“Maybe someday we can convince them to visit,” Reid smiled, “In the mean time, what’s going on at work?”

“Well, I just got back from southern California where we faced a cannibal who…” Hotch stopped as the waiter froze in horror beside him.

“Ah, movie script,” Hotch stated with a bland look, “Is that our food?”

“Sure,” The guy replied, putting it down on the table in front of Hotch. It was some sort of creamy dish that smelled exquisite.

Reid had some sort of steak meal and was looking down on it greedily, “I haven’t had red meat that wasn’t a cheap, greasy burger in _ages_.”

“Well,” Hotch laughed, “We can always cook more in our place.”

“Your place.”

“ _Ours_ ,” Hotch smiled, “You’re kind of my housemate, Spencer.”

“Well, yeah,” Reid chuckled, blushing brilliantly, “I guess. Are you sure this isn’t too fast? I’m not really sure how dating works.”

“Oh, it’s fast,” Hotch laughed, “But the truth is we started as friends so we sort of have a jump on things.”

“I’m enjoying this,” Reid admitted, chewing his food thoroughly, “The food, the atmosphere, the company.”

“You’re gorgeous,” Hotch sighed, “And this food is delicious. What’s in it?”

Reid smiled at Hotch over the rim of his glass. Reid had ordered them a fine white wine that Hotch was trying not to overindulge in.

“Snails,” Reid admitted.

“You’re… you’re joking,” Hotch hesitated, glancing down at his half empty plate.

“You said you weren’t allergic so… Congrats? You’ve tried something new,” Reid chuckled.

“I should have known,” Hotch sighed, taking another bite, “It _really_ is good.”

“I know,” Reid chuckled, “I was half tempted to get it myself but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity for steak.”

“Well, next time you can have this.”

“Tell me that after you get the bill,” Reid chuckled.

“Oh, that’s going to hurt all right,” Hotch laughed, “But it’s worth it to have a proper date with you. We don’t have to do this regularly, by the way. I’m perfectly content just spending time with you anywhere.”

“Oh, backpedaling now that you’ve realized I’d like to eat here more often,” Reid snickered.

“Well, maybe I can get you on the payroll since you help solve half my cases,” Hotch laughed, “Then you can buy _me_ dinner.”

“Sure,” Reid grinned, “I’ll be your secret agent who works form an unknown location, stealthily providing you with brilliant deductions; the Sherlock to your Lestrade.”

“Hm,” Hotch purred, “I like that. My clever, isolated, crime solving genius.”

“Elementary, my dear Detective Inspector,” Reid purred, eyelids lowering sensually, “I’ll have to conduct a _thorough_ study.”

Hotch was hardening fast, his eyes focused on Reid’s expressive lips, “I’d love to volunteer as part of your study.”

“Isn’t that _Watson’s_ role?” Reid chuckled.

Hotch’s eyes narrowed, “Wait, who’s Watson?”

“Gil,” Reid chuckled, “Though I’m betting he’d be pissed if I told him.”

“Well… so long as there’s nothing between you two…”

“Nothing but friendship,” Reid replied with a soft smile.

“Good,” Hotch smiled fondly, “I’m the jealous type.”

“You know, I think I might be too,” Reid replied, his smile faltering, “I found some pictures in your house and… I figured out what happened to them but…”

Hotch’s smile and ardor vanished, “My photo albums.”

“I’m sorry,” Reid replied, “I wasn’t prying. I was looking for a book and-“

“It’s fine,” Hotch replied with a heavy sigh, “An unsub killed them. George Foyet.”

“I read about him in the papers,” Reid replied softly.

“I was supposed to protect them,” Hotch shook his head softly.

Reid’s hand slipped into Hotch’s, “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Yeah,” Hotch sighed, “That’s what everyone says.”

“Do you think you’d want children again someday?” Reid asked worriedly, “Because I couldn’t provide you with one.”

Hotch smiled sadly, “I’d like to adopt someday, but that’s far in the future, and you don’t have to provide me with anything except your company.”

“I’m sorry,” Reid ducked his head, “That was insensitive of me.”

“It’s fine,” Hotch replied, “We’re both new at this.”

“I just want to figure out how I fit into your future,” Reid worried, “I’m not used to _having_ a future.”

“I hate that you’ve had to think that way,” Hotch stroked Reid’s knuckles with his thumb, “I want you to have a future.”

“I think…” Reid hesitated, “I think I’d have to take medication for that. They pushed it on me in the hospital and… It was better but I hated it.”

Hotch nodded, “I support whatever you decide, Spencer.”

“For now,” Reid worried, “Until I get worse and you can’t stand me anymore.”

“I’m not in this with the idea that I can fix you, Spencer. That’s why I’m trying to learn how to work around and live with your disorder. Just keep communicating with me and when I start getting in over my head I’ll tell you. We’ll find a way around it.”

“This is still so unreal,” Reid sighed, taking another sip of his wine, “How did we fall so hard so fast?”

“It’s been months,” Hotch chuckled, “That’s no fast. Not slow, either, but not fast.”

“I’m so new at this,” Reid sighed, “I’m not sure how to function with another person in my life. I want you _so much_ , not just physically but emotionally, too. Is that how you feel?”

“Yes,” Hotch smiled, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, “You’ve quickly become an important part of my life. Just seeing your shed out back makes me feel content.”

“Just so long as you know you can’t protect me, Aaron. From myself or the world,” Reid worried, “I don’t want you to get that expectation in your head.”

“I wish I could promise I won’t,” Hotch sighed, “But I’m afraid that’s a part of human nature. I _do_ logically realize that most things are out of my hands.”

“That will have to do, I guess,” Reid worried.

The waiter had returned to offer them desert. Reid’s eyes lit up in excitement and Hotch encouraged him to order something for them to split. They shared a large yogurt with fruit on top and then headed home after Hotch coughed up a ridiculous sum for their bill. Hotch offered to keep the windows open so Reid could tolerate a drive home. Reid didn’t think it would work, but he tried it out anyway. Reid kept his hand out the window, running his hands through the air. His other hand clutched Hotch’s tightly as they made their way home. The speed wasn’t an issue so Hotch pushed it a bit and took the fastest route home so they could get him out quickly. Reid was trembling a bit when they stopped, but he smiled gratefully and let Hotch lead him around back to his little home.

Reid opened up the windows now that the sun had set, letting a cross breeze into his home. Hotch smiled as Reid chose a couple of books and they settled in to sip some decaf coffee and hold hands as they read their books. Hotch wanted to be in Reid’s arms again, but he also knew not to push the young man too fast. When Reid started to yawn he pressed a kiss to his cheek and suggested they turn in for the night. He left to go to his own bed, though not without one last farewell glance at Reid standing in his doorway and smiling sweetly at him.

XXX

Hotch woke to the sound of coffee perking in the kitchen. Reid was either having a _very_ good day or his little home was making things more bearable for him, because he’d left the electricity on. He was humming happily, hips swaying as he moved through the kitchen. He had his headphones on, which possibly accounted for the electricity being on as well. Hotch didn’t want to test the theory so he gave Reid a wave and headed for the table. Reid was already cooking breakfast and Hotch was in the mood to be pampered.

Reid turned and dropped some food on his plate, leaning in to give him a shy kiss on his cheek. He pulled off his headphones, “You’re wonderful.”

“You are,” Hotch smiled softly, “And can I just say how fantastic it is to wake up to your cooking. And humming. And the way those pants fit over your hips.”

Reid giggled, “Do I look okay?”

“You look _amazing_ ,” Hotch promised, “I want you desperately.”

Reid blushed prettily, “I just… I want you so much.”

Hotch’s eyes flashed with lust but he knew better than to make the first move. Reid shied away like a skittish colt and then moved forward and slid a hand along Hotch’s shoulders, pressing against his body as he wrapped one arm around his neck. His other hand held a spatula and Hotch had a rather lusty vision of the young man in nothing but an apron. Reid lowered his head and Hotch lifted his, enjoying the soft drag of their lips. They both had a fair amount of stubble and that was a new experience for Hotch. He let Reid lead the kiss, but when he started to pull away Hotch instinctively pulled him back in.

Reid didn’t panic as Hotch had expected him to. Instead he moaned deeply and leaned into Hotch’s body for more. Hotch silently thanked his lucky stars and devoured Reid’s mouth, eager for more contact with a man who drove him insane with his own brilliant insanity. He stood up slowly, hoping the height change wouldn’t trigger a reaction in Reid’s mental state. Reid plastered himself against Hotch, his breath speeding up as the kiss deepened. Hotch wrapped one arm around Reid’s torso, then slowly followed it up with the second arm when Reid still responded positively. He could smell his own soap on Reid’s skin and it was triggering a possessive instinct in him. Reid smelled like _his home_ , it made the ancient part of his brain scream _mine_. Hotch was making the most embarrassing sounds and had no intention of stopping it as Reid began to whimper in counterpoint. Reid pulled away, but with a look of such intense need in his eyes that Hotch wasn’t disappointed.

“Tell me,” Hotch breathed.

“I want you,” Reid gasped, “But I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m a bit shaky on the details myself,” Hotch told him, “Though I’ve tried anal before. We can go simpler at first.”

“Anything,” Reid replied hungrily.

“Bed? Couch? Kitchen table?” Hotch asked, voice cracking as his mind supplied pictures of each possible options.

Reid glanced around the kitchen, “Smell of food, coffee, comforts of home. Yeah, kitchen table.”

“You are a walking fantasy,” Hotch growled, shifting the plates off the table and onto the counter. As much as he would have liked to just throw them he thought that might be pushing things. He pushed Reid against the table and started undoing his pants while watching his eyes carefully. Reid’s pupils were dilated and his lust was palpable. Hotch slid the fabric down his slim hips and let out a soft sound of desire and surprise. Reid wasn’t wearing underwear.

“Surprise,” Reid squeaked, pretty lips quirking.

“Oh, you…” Hotch growled, and pushed him against the table, gripping his ass to lift him up.

Reid sat on the table and smiled shyly. His cock was standing at attention as Hotch stepped back and tossed his robe aside. He started on Reid’s buttons and the young man helped eagerly, pulling off his top when enough was undone. Hotch’s hands flew around his naked body and Reid gasped as he went for Hotch’s neck. Hotch groaned, his hips rutting against Reid’s body as the younger man mouthed at his neck, licking at his flesh as if it were a delicacy. Hotch throbbed, and it took everything he had to control himself enough to reach between them and line up their cocks so he wasn’t the only one enjoying their moment together.

Reid let out a groan and threw his head back as Hotch began to work their cocks together. He leaned back on one hand and reached to help, watching as their hands moved up and down along their members. Hotch began to move his hips to stimulate the underside of their cocks. Reid groaned loudly, his hips rolling where he hovered on the edge of the table. Hotch wanted to spit on his hand to slick it up but he knew Reid wouldn’t have it. He needed fluids. He shot a look over his shoulder and then pulled away despite Reid’s whimper of protest. He grabbed the cooking oil and spilled some onto his hand, returning to where Reid was tossing himself off with a pained look on his face.

“Here,” Hotch soothed, “Let me.”

Reid let him work the oil over his shaft and then take both of them in hand again.

“Oh, _fuck!_ ” Reid shouted in surprise, hips juttering upwards, “Aaron! Yes!”

“So gorgeous,” Hotch breathed, “Come for me my beautiful genius.”

The slick was perfect, the heat of their hands erotic. Reid’s long fingers were as symbolic to Hotch as the young man’s dick, his body one long, willowy sex symbol. He couldn’t stop himself from moaning in bliss, and then Reid’s body arched and he let out several sharp gasps as his cock hardened. Hotch groaned and watched fluids spurt from Reid’s cock onto his abdomen and chest. Hotch milked Reid’s cock for a moment and then switched to working only his own. He grunted as his cock erupted over Reid’s body, pleasure curling at his spine as lust left his eyes fluttering shut. When he was finally able to focus again he saw Reid staring at his own abdomen in shock.

“You… you _jizzed_ on me, ew!” Reid exclaimed, scrambling off of the table and shoving Hotch aside.

Reid bolted for the bathroom while Hotch struggled with his various emotions. On one hand Reid’s reaction was a bit funny, but it also felt like rejection and smacked of future problems. Hotch took a deep breath, wiped his hand and cock off on a paper towel, and then headed into the bathroom where Reid was frantically scrubbing the tub while trying not to let his stomach touch it.

“I’m clean,” Hotch told him, “I haven’t been with anyone since my wife and we always got tested regularly since injuries happened in the field.”

“I know,” Reid whined, “I know, I know, I know. I-“

“Talk to me,” Hotch replied, but Reid didn’t respond, “I can wear a condom next time.”

Reid still remained silent, so Hotch amended his thought, “Assuming there _will_ be a next time.”

Reid stood up and rinsed off the shower before stepping in and spraying himself with water without bothering to shut the curtain. He was reaching for the bleech when Hotch realized what he was about to do and snatched it out of his reach.

“Are you crazy?! You’ll get chemical burns! I’ll have to take you to the hospital!”

Reid whimpered, shifting from foot to foot, and gave Hotch an agonized look as tears began to run down his face.

“Okay,” Hotch soothed, “Okay, let me help.”

“It’s not fair,” Reid sobbed as Hotch soaped up his hands and washed them in the sink as if he were preparing for surgery. He washed the front of his own body and then his hands again before turning to Reid with a fresh rag.

Hotch descended on Reid and scrubbed him with spicy scented soap. He scrubbed even in the crease of his thighs and when Reid turned he scrubbed his ass crack as well. Then he hosed him off, dried his body, and pulled the shaking young man into his arms.

“It’s okay,” Hotch soothed, stroking his back gently, “It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. I just treated you like shit and freaked out and-“

“And it’s okay,” Hotch repeated, “I love you, Spencer.”

“I can’t even make love to you,” Reid choked.

“Yeah you can. You did. It was beautiful.”

“Until I _freaked out_.”

“I’ll take the occasional freak out to have you,” Hotch insisted, “Let’s get you to your hut. You’ll feel safe in your home. In the quiet, right?”

“Yes,” Reid promised, and then stilled and gripped Hotch’s shoulders, “You have to go to work.”

“I know,” Hotch replied softly, “I do, but I’ll get you settled first.”

“I’m destroying your life.”

“You’re doing _no such thing_ ,” Hotch insisted, half carrying Reid out the back door. He hustled him into his hut and sat him on the floor, “Listen, I thought of a way to keep you safer in here.”

“How?” Reid asked, curious and eager for a puzzle to distract him.

“The sound of electricity bothers you, right? What about air?”

“Not that I know of,” Reid frowned, “Wind doesn’t bother me, but any other sort of airflow is manmade.”

“What about a tube coming from my window to one of your windows, diverting some of my AC to your hut. You’d barely have to use it with such a small space.”

Reid frowned as he considered the options, “It would heat up from the sun on the way here. It’s too far.”

“What if I piped it underground?” Hotch asked.

“In that case you’d want to use a pipe,” Reid considered, “Or a rubber hose, which would be easier to install and more insulated. If you taped up the end on your side it would work pretty well as a funnel.”

“Okay,” Hotch smiled, “I’ll leave you with some money and-“

“I have some from yesterday.”

“Okay, so today you work on running a line from the kitchen to the hut. Then you’ll be more comfortable in here during the day if you need to stay inside for any reason. For the bad days.”

Reid nodded silently, but his eyes had become distant as he made calculations and considered the best way to create his air conditioner. Hotch pressed a kiss to his head.

“I love you, Spencer. We’ll get through this. We’ll make the hut more livable for you so you don’t have to strain yourself inside the house, and on good days you will _always_ be welcome in our home. On bad days you can still come in and shut off the power. Hell, on _any_ day. I have to go now. Will you be alright?”

“Yes,” Reid nodded, smiling softly, “Thank you for redirecting me. It helped a lot.”

“Do you want a lift, or will the car be too much?”

“Too much,” Reid replied, “Can I take things apart here? Replaceable things?”

“Sure,” Hotch smiled, “Whatever you want. Maybe you should get a degree in engineering next.”

Reid’s face lit up, “Yeah, that’s a good idea!”

Hotch grinned as he turned to walk away, leaving Reid in his shed where he knew the young man would be safe and comfortable.

Hotch walked into his office with a spring in his step, whistling to himself until he got off the elevator and saw all the anxious faces directed at him. Hotch adjusted his bag on his shoulder and turned to his partner.

“When do we leave?”

“Sorry?” Grissom asked, his expression tense.

“I assumed by your expression that whatever it is can’t wait for explanation. When do we leave? Or is this an in-house problem?”

“Oh, definitely in-house,” Grissom replied softly, then motioned to someone behind him, “Are you armed?”

“Yes, why?” Two officers stepped into the room and Hotch was instructed to put down his bags and raise his arms over his head, “What the hell is going on here?”

“Aaron Hotchner,” Grissom stated miserably, “You’re under arrest for the kidnapping, rape, and unlawful imprisonment of Spencer Reid.”


	9. Chapter 9

Hotch stared down at the pictures before him. Reid looked terrified as Hotch dragged him, both of them naked, from his kitchen to the hut. The rest of the pictures were less shocking but no less damning. Reid hanging out of his car with his face twisted in anxiety and eyes watering from the wind. Reid pacing anxiously inside of his house, visible through an open window since he had all the electric off.

“These have been altered,” Hotch informed him, “I never lock him in. He’s free to go wherever he wants, whenever he wants. Just look at these. What’s keeping him in? The mosquito netting?”

“He’s been missing for _months_ , Aaron,” Grissom told him sadly, “He’s mentally ill. A threat to spit on him could keep him bound in your house.”

“He _was_ missing, then he showed up,” Hotch replied, “In my home. _Willingly_.”

“He broke in?”

“He has a key,” Hotch replied, “I wanted him to have a place to wash up and cool off if-“

“Spencer is terrified of electricity inside of buildings. He can barely tolerate walking the streets let alone being in a house full of lights.”

“He shuts off the power. I’ve bought stock in candles and kerosene in his name for his birthday,” Hotch quipped.

“Aaron,” Grissom shifted, “Gideon and Rossi are on their way here.”

“Good, they can clear this up.”

“They’re the ones who profiled you,” Grissom told him softly, “They’re the ones who suspected you were having a major depressive episode after the death of your wife and son. I understand, Aaron.”

“Do you?” Hotch asked, moving to fold his arms but stopped by the cuffs that held him to the table. He shifted uncomfortably, “Perhaps you can explain it to me, then?”

“You wanted someone to protect. Needed someone to protect. You saw Spencer, brilliant and childlike but unable to care for himself properly. You saw your son in him. It probably started out innocent enough, but when you realized he wasn’t as childlike as you thought he became your wife as well.”

“That’s disgusting,” Hotch snarled, “And Spencer is perfectly capable of taking care of himself. He just needed shelter- a safety net- which I provided for him. I support him emotionally when I can, but he’s a damn _genius_! He’s a better man than I’ll ever be, despite his illness.”

“You’re in love with him,” Grissom replied softly.

“He’s in love with me as well,” Hotch replied, “This is _mutual_ , based on respect, and completely healthy. I took him to dinner last night and this morning we made _love_. Yes, he panicked afterwards. As you mentioned, he _is_ mentally ill, but not so ill he can’t consent. This picture was of me hurrying to get him to his sactuary so he could calm down again. He did. When I left him he was considering ways to improve his dwelling. He’s probably either there working on it or walking to a hardware store.”

Grissom studied him silently for a moment and Hotch continued out of sheer frustration even though he knew the tactic was to keep him talking, “He trusts you. Go there and knock on his door. He’ll let you in. Probably make you some of his perfectly brewed coffee. If you can lure him into the house I _strongly_ suggest weaseling him into making you breakfast. The man missed his calling as a chef.”

“What do I have to do to get him to cook for me?” Grissom asked.

“Well, you could coerce and rape him, but personally I prefer to ask nicely,” Hotch growled, “When are Gideon and Rossi getting here?”

“They’ve been here for hours.”

“Fantastic. Send them in and tell them to skip the part where they tell me how I fell for each of your tactics. I’m well aware and _pissed off_.”

Grissom sat there and studied Hotch for a moment, then stood and headed out the door. Rossi and Gideon stepped in with strained looks on their faces.

“Well?” Hotch asked sharply, “Please tell me no one has been stupid enough to terrify Spencer in his home? Send Grissom. He trusts him.”

“So you said,” Gideon stated softly as he sat down opposite Hotch. Rossi remained standing.

“What are you doing, Aaron?” Rossi asked softly, “When we heard the reports from your neighbor…”

“My neighbor doesn’t have a clear shot of our yard unless she climbs a tree,” Hotch stiffened in alarm, _“Has_ someone checked on Spencer?”

“He wasn’t there,” Gideon replied, “The inside of the shed was neat and tidy.”

“So clearly I didn’t lock him in, but if someone’s been spying on us than we need to-“

“We don’t need to do anything,” Rossi cut him off firmly, “You need to get some help and tell us exactly where that tunnel leads.”

“What tunnel?” Hotch asked.

“His _escape tunnel_ ,” Gideon laughed, “You didn’t know about it. He was escaping. Good for him.”

“Well, follow it!” Hotch shouted, “I’m not his assailant in any way! You _have_ to know this! You can’t possibly be this far off the profile!”

“The tunnel collapsed,” Gideon replied, “We’re excavating it now. So far it doesn’t look as if he was in it at the time, but we haven’t reached the end. If we were to know where he’d have the other end than we could start the search there. Double our efforts to reach him.”

Hotch felt panic rising, he rubbed his free hand over his face, frantically thinking.

“Reid feels safest in the wilderness at night,” Hotch told him, “It’s where he gets his peace and comfort so he can deal with the electronics during the day. If he were turning the tunnel somewhere it would be either to the city proper, so he could get there to ‘work’, or the desert for a secondary escape route.”

“Escape from what?” Gideon asked.

“From the electronics, from his demons, from himself. He likes to read in absolute silence. Constantly. Hell, it might go to the library. He was talking about going there, but how would he get out on the other side? He’d never use the sewer, and you can bet a genius like Reid would know where it was at all times.”

Hotch went to stand, intending on leaving and chasing after Reid, but the cuff dragged him back into his seat.

“Could you _please_ unlock these?” Hotch growled angrily, “I’ve done nothing wrong!”

Rossi and Gideon studied him a moment, “There was a padlock on the shed.”

“Not. From. Me.”

“The pictures tell-“

“DAMN THE PICTURES!” Hotch shouted angrily, “The man I love is out there somewhere, terrified and being stalked by someone! Let me out of these cuffs!”


	10. Chapter 10

Hotch knelt down and studied the small hole that Reid had made. It was so tiny that only he would be able to fit through it. Hotch had chosen a series of bricks rather than a solid slab for the foundation because it would survive an earthquake better. He’d layered them to limit settling. Reid had removed enough to escape down below and dug himself a tunnel that he’d supported with scraps of wood. The scraps of wood hadn’t survived well, they were simply too rotten despite his decent support layout.

“Where were you going, Spence?” Hotch wondered out loud.

“Escaping something or someone,” Grissom mused.

“Yes, but whom? Or what?” Hotch sighed, “Someone was truly stalking him, but that doesn’t mean the two events are connected. Spencer might have been running from his own personal demons.”

“The question is,” Rossi asked from the doorway, “What was keeping him here? This place isn’t what I’d call comfortable. There are more shelves than places to lean. He can only really sit on the chairs and on his bed. It seems like you made it to give him two options: read with you or…”

“I’m not even justifying that with a response,” Hotch snarled.

“I’m just trying to get into your head, Aaron,” Rossi stated softly, “I-“

“Hotchner,” Hotch cut him off.

“So it’s like that, is it?” Rossi sighed.

“If you’re incapable of trusting me despite my explanations, then yes, I consider our friendship over,” Hotch stood up and glanced around the room, “I wonder what else he’s altered here?”

“We don’t have time to-“ Rossi started.

“He writes journals, they should be stored in the rafters,” Hotch replied, “Would you like to search for them so I don’t contaminate evidence?”

“I think I’ll let the younger crew climb into the rafters, thanks,” Rossi sighed, “Hey, Morgan! Tag, you’re it.”

Hotch stepped outside as well, leaving Morgan to search Reid’s home. Hotch headed into his own home with Gideon at his heels, hoping to find some clue in there. He searched his kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, and living room for notes or some clue. He found nothing out of place.

“Reid’s so meticulous,” Hotch sighed, “He puts everything back when he’s done. He even cleaned up after I left. Yet he’ll stop eating and bathing during bad days.”

“Grissom told me he’s a paranoid schizophrenic?” Gideon asked.

“High functioning, but yes. He hears voices, both inside his head and without, and is particularly sensitive to electricity. His home out back is made specifically to keep him feeling safe and secure. He thought he was claustrophobic, but he’s since realized he isn’t. He’s leaning more towards agorophobia or something similar.”

“He self-diagnoses,” Gideon observed.

“He studies everything, including himself, objectively. I think I’m the only thing he hasn’t studied, to be honest. With me he seems to just _feel_. It scares and excites him. I can’t say I don’t feel the same.”

“You’re aware of his condition, have you seen it come full cycle?” Gideon asked gently.

“Yes, or at least I’ve seen him before and after his ‘bad days’. I washed the filth off of him after he came home half-starved, dehydrated, soiled, and disgusted with himself. I soothed his raw nerves and wiped his nose. He worried I’d see him as a child, but I don’t. He’s brilliant, Gideon. You’ll see when you meet him. You’ll see why I love him.”

Gideon nodded, clapping Hotch on the shoulder supportively. He didn’t look convinced and he didn’t look hopeful. Then he hesitated and turned back to Hotch.

“One question. If he’s a paranoid schizophrenic how does he deal with you being in the FBI?”

“Grissom introduced us, and he knew Reid before he joined the FBI,” Hotch replied, “Besides, Reid’s paranoia revolves around religion. So far I’ve seen no indication of Anti-Government Phobia.”

“Sounds like the same type of phobia,” Gideon considered, “Usually the obsession is the other way. They believe god is a more intimate part of their lives or they demand the rigors of religion to execute control over their lives.”

“He’s gay,” Hotch replied, “Religion has punished him more than the government has.”

Hotch watched through the glass as the neighbor was interviewed. Gideon and Morgan were asking her how and why she had ended up studying Hotch from her tree. At first she was defensive, arguing that they were going after the wrong person and that they needed to find Reid and protect him. It was when she slipped up and used his first name that they knew she was more than a concerned neighbor with a tendency to be nosy.

After that it was only a matter of minutes before she was raving about Reid, screaming at the top of her lungs that Hotch was a monster bent on destroying him and only she could safe his soul. She fancied herself an angel and claimed she’d been flying over the house. Rossi had Garcia pull up her past and found a long list of complaints by neighbors and a restraining order from an ex-boyfriend in California.

Rossi headed for Hotch to apologize, but he avoided him with ease, turning away to demand full access to the case. Hotch then called JJ to ask for a full report, ignoring the men present as he reviewed the notes in front of him. When he was fully caught up on the details he asked Garcia to run a geographic profile on the places Reid might hide while he discussed the groups profile with the team.


	11. Chapter 11

A week passed and Reid was still nowhere to be found. The excavation of his tunnel had revealed a store of supplies but no Reid. Hotch was devastated but he also had to continue to work. There were killers to catch, rapists to stop, and monsters in the city that never slept. He was raw and stressed out. Gideon and Rossi stayed in an attempt to make up for their error in judgement. They helped him with his cases while he searched for Reid.

Hotch was sitting at his desk filling out paperwork when his phone rang. It was a security guard on the other end.

_“Excuse me, Agent Hotchner, there’s a collect call in for you from Bennington. We aren’t allowed to accept it so I had to disconnect. The name that was listed was Spencer Reid.”_

Hotch froze, “Spencer Reid?”

“ _That’s what it sounded like.”_

“Thank you,” Hotch replied.

Hotch hung up and pulled up the number for Bennington on his computer. He called the line, but got bounced around for a while. Finally he got ahold of someone in the inpatient wing who realized that Hotch was on the visitors list. He was quickly told visiting hours and then put on hold. Hotch sat there, his leg shaking as he waited anxiously, and then the phone was taken up again.

“Spencer?” Hotch asked.

“I’m sorry, but he’s checked himself out,” The doctor stated, “I can’t give you any other information.”

“He’s my partner,” Hotch told them, “He’s been missing for a week.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t-“

“I’m FBI. I work at the BAU Las Vegas office.”

There was silence on the other end, “I’d need to see some credentials including proof that you’re his guardian-“

“I’m not his guardian, I’m his _partner_.”

“Then your status as an FBI agent… assuming that you are… is-“

Hotch hung up the phone and dialed Garcia. He had her inform the other half of the team about Reid’s attempted contact. Then he packed things up and went home for the day, hoping that Reid would be there by then. Hotch waited in the house and checked the shed periodically but Reid didn’t return. He worried for another sleepless night and then headed back to work the next day.

Rossi and Gideon returned back to his home with him that night, worried for his health and telling him they’d help him continue his search for Reid that night. Hotch opened the door and they headed inside. He shut it behind them and waited in silence, listening to the room around him.

“Hey, Hotch?” Rossi asked, “How about some light?”

“There’s gotta be a switch around here somewhere,” Gideon muttered, patting the wall. He found it and threw it but nothing happened. He threw the one next to it but it remained dark, “If you’re having trouble paying the bill…?”

“The power’s off, can’t you hear how quiet it is?” Hotch asked.

Rossi and Gideon pulled out their guns but Hotch shushed them, “Put those away. Spencer’s here. Technophobe, remember?”

They put their guns away, but kept them their hands on them while Hotch crossed into the middle of the living room.

“Spencer?” Hotch called, “I’m home!”

Silence. Hotch headed for the bathroom. It smelled of bleach and the curtains were pulled, but Reid wasn’t there. Hotch hurried to the shed but he wasn’t there either. The door was locked again and when Hotch peered in the open window he could see where the rug had been replaced over the boards that hid his exit.

“Should we wait for him inside or…?” Gideon asked.

“I don’t have a key,” Hotch replied, “It’s _his_ home.”

He headed back inside and searched for a note, smiling softly when he finally found one.

_Aaron,_

_I tried to reach you but couldn’t get through. I have a few errands to run so I’ll see you tomorrow._

_Love,_

_Spencer_

Hotch brushed tears aside as he stared at the sloping handwriting. Reid was safe.

XXX

Hotch nearly hyperventilated when the guard called up again to tell him he had a visitor. He was in the middle of a meeting so he told the guard to bring Spencer up. Then he quickly finished up and dismissed the team before heading out into the bullpen. Reid was standing there in his suit, looking put together and calm with his bag over his shoulder. Hotch headed straight for him, watching the young man’s face light up as he approached. He was vaguely aware of his team, Gideon, and Rossi watching nearby. He didn’t care. He paused in front of Spencer and swallowed hard before speaking.

“Can I touch you? Hug you?”

Reid’s smile widened, “Please.”

Hotch pulled Reid into his arms, pressing a firm kiss to his lips before simply hugging him tightly. Reid smiled and wrapped his arms hesitantly around Hotch’s waist. Hotch petted his hair and breathed in his scent, relieved that Reid was back. Then he pulled back and studied his face.

“A bad day?”

“No,” Spencer smiled, “A sort of… awakening.”

“I heard you were in Bennington but they wouldn’t let me talk to you.”

“They didn’t think you were real,” Reid laughed, “I went there to… Can we talk in private?”

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry. This way,” Hotch led Reid to his own office, shutting the door and drawing the blinds, “What happened?”

“I checked myself into Bennington,” Reid replied with a sigh as he settled down in his chair, “After that morning… after freaking out just because…”

“I wasn’t angry,” Hotch insisted.

“I know,” Reid replied, “I’m sorry I worried you. You’re usually gone for days at a time so I figured it wasn’t a big deal if I was too.”

“It normally wouldn’t be,” Hotch replied, and then cut himself off. He didn’t want to frighten Reid by telling him about his stalker, “Your tunnel collapsed. We thought you were inside.”

“Oh my gods, I…” Reid gave him a horrified look, “I’m so, so sorry!”

“Don’t be,” Hotch replied, “Just-“

“I never should have tried to dig that thing. Is your yard ruined?”

“Yes, but I could care less about-“

“I’m sorry,” Reid ran his hand through his hair, “I’ll fix it.”

“ _Spencer,_ ” Hotch cut him off, “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Reid gave him a soft smile, “You’re too good to be true, you know that?”

“I’m not that good, but I am worried. Why Bennington?”

“My mother is there,” Reid replied, “I went to tell her I’m in love and… She didn’t take it well, of course. So then I checked myself in. I told them that I had the same issues she did. They set me up and got me put on medication.”

“But why?” Hotch asked, taking Reid’s hand and sitting on the edge of the desk, “I thought you didn’t like the medication?”

“I don’t,” Reid replied, “But it’s not fair to you to have a boyfriend who can’t cope with _anything_.”

“I love you, Spencer. You don’t have to change for me.”

“I didn’t,” Reid smiled softly, “I did it for me. You were just the motivation. I… I want to be well. I’m in an outpatient program with Bennington that will help me moderate my medication so that I can function _and_ still deal with my illness. I’ll need your help, but-“

“You’ve got it,” Hotch promised, “Just promise me that you’ll talk to me. Keep me going so I know when things aren’t working for you. I’ll support you as best I can.”

“I promise,” Reid smiled.

Hotch reached out and stroked his cheek, “I want to hold you for a few days, but I’m being rude right now. I want you to meet some of my coworkers.”

“Won’t you be ashamed?” Reid asked, his eyes flashing with worry, “I figured you’d just pass me off as a lead until you kissed me and then…”

“I’m not ashamed of you,” Hotch told him, “Just wait here. I’ll bring them in one at a time so you’re not overwhelmed.”

“Thank you,” Reid smiled warmly.

Hotch headed out to the bullpen and motioned for Gideon first. He walked him inside, whispering not to mention the stalker, and proudly introduced them both.

“Jason, this is Dr. Spencer Reid, my partner. Spencer, this is Special Agent Jason Gideon.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Reid smiled, not extending his hand. Gideon let his drop, “I’ve heard so much about you and I’ve read all of your books recently.”

“Criminology interests you?”

“Everything interests me,” Reid smiled.

They spoke for a moment, Gideon’s eyes moving from cautious to impressed, before Hotch decided to rotate them. He brought Rossi in next but didn’t give him much time with Reid. Instead he decided to ask about the tunnel after introducing them.

“Oh, that,” Reid blushed, looking down, “Well…”

“Rossi here thought it was to escape from me,” Hotch told him softly, “They thought I was abusing you. He knows about your mental illness, by the way. Grissom told them, though not to be malicious.”

Reid glanced up shyly, “It sort of was but… not because Hotch is hurting me.”

“So why, then?” Rossi asked in obvious concern.

“I’m a paranoid schizophrenic,” Reid sighed, “While I don’t really suspect the government of much, I’m still freaked out about my boyfriend being in the damn FBI. I  know I was being illogical, and I’m _really sorry_ , but it’s just how I deal with things. Dealt with things. I’m getting better and I’m going to _continue_ to get better.”

“That’s good,” Rossi nodded, “Aaron cares about you quite a bit. I’d hate to see him hurt.”

“I don’t want that either,” Reid admitted.

Hotch moved forward and slipped an arm around Reid’s waste, “I think this is enough for one day. Can we meet somewhere for dinner? Or I can call it a day-“

“I don’t want you leaving work because of me. Can I stay and read? I won’t get in the way.”

“Will you be okay in here?” Hotch worried.

“I think so,” Reid smiled softly, “Medicine, remember? It’s not at the levels I need yet, but it’s helping.”

“Okay. I have some paperwork to finish up. With any luck we won’t have a case, but if I do I’ll have to leave. If not then I’m taking you home and worshipping you in any way you’ll be comfortable with.”

Reid’s eyebrows furrowed and he gave Hotch an amused look, “Do you think I’ll be comfortable with _any_ form of worship?”

“Poor choice of words,” Hotch chuckled.

“I love you,” Reid told him, “And I love that you keep that smile just for me.”

Hotch gave it to him again and then turned to head back to the bullpen.

XXX

The night couldn’t have taken longer to end. Hotch got to watch Reid sitting on his couch, smiling as he listened to his headphones. He left a few times to get some air but was otherwise calm the rest of the day. He fell asleep repeatedly and Hotch suspected the medication since Reid had been quite the insomniac previously. He watched him sleep and was comforted by his presence.

Finally he was finished for the night. He gently nudged Reid’s leg and the young man stirred, smiling softly as he stretched.

“I like sleeping,” Reid sighed, “It’s weird how I didn’t before. I still have nightmares, but they’re not as… something. They’re still frightening but I can get over them afterwards. I still hear voices, though. They’re quieter. I think eventually they’ll be silent.”

“I hope so,” Hotch smiled softly.

“Just so long as my brain isn’t. That’s the thing, they don’t think you’re real so they keep upping my meds. Will you go to meet my doctor? Tell them what’s real and what isn’t so we can focus on properly treating me?”

“Absolutely,” Hotch smiled softly, “For now, let’s go home.”

“Okay,” Reid stood up and slipped his hand into Hotch’s to the agent’s surprise.

Hotch walked him out into the bullpen but was stopped by Rossi and Gideon.

“We’d like to head back to DC in the morning,” Gideon told him, “Before then we’d like to take you two out to dinner. Celebrate Reid’s safe return.”

“And apologize again,” Hotch stated coldly, “I’m done being angry but I’m not interested in dinner.”

“We might not see each other again for years,” Rossi stated softly, “We don’t even know you anymore. First your family dies and you leave, and then this mess. Let us see you at your best, Aaron. We’re supposed to be helping each other keep both sides of the country safe. You don’t have to accept our apologies or be our friend again, but we’d like to re-establish trust.”

Hotch sighed, and glanced at Reid, “Are you up for a dinner out?”

“Y-yes?” Reid asked hesitantly, “If we can go to that one place again… I know it’s expensive but I liked the waterfall and-“

“My treat,” Rossi stated, jumping on Reid’s acceptance.

Reid shied against Hotch’s side at the attention, but Hotch simply wrapped an arm protectively around him, “Can you manage a car ride?”

“I think so,” Reid nodded, “I’ve been doing really well today.”

“You have,” Hotch pressed a kiss to his temple, “But you don’t have to push yourself. We can still go home.”

Reid considered the two men before him, “You wanted me to meet your mentors. I want to spend time with them while they’re here. Let’s do it.”

Hotch nodded and led them out of the building, his hand on the small of Reid’s back. Reid bolted ahead at one point to open the door, making a joke that it was his turn. Then he took a turn putting _his_ hand on Hotch’s back and smiling at him. Hotch found he liked it and smiled as Reid continued to shepherd him after their uneventful ride to the restaurant. Reid was still sleepy, but Hotch wasn’t worried about it, especially if he was being overmedicated. He was still adjusting and would do better in time.

They sat at a table together and Reid became more animated as Gideon sparked a conversation with him about psychology. They went on for a while, but Hotch wasn’t willing to give up on Reid’s attention. He stroked his fingers and when the young man pulled them away to talk with his hands Hotch rubbed his hand over Reid’s thigh. Reid gave Hotch an awkward look for a moment but didn’t push him away.

As the night wore on Reid continued to chat and Hotch left his hand on Reid’s thigh, though he didn’t push things. It wasn’t until after Reid had chosen a desert that he reached beneath the table and gently slid Hotch’s hand up higher. Gideon and Rossi immediately noticed though Reid hadn’t broken the line of conversation. Hotch’s hand hovered over Reid’s crotch, stroking the bulge there. It was quite pronounced, almost a full erection. Hotch couldn’t move all the way up to his tip without making it painfully obvious. Thankfully, Rossi and Gideon took pity on their young love, exchanged a smirk, and told him they had to head out. Rossi settled the bill and they left while Reid was still adjusting himself beneath the table to hide his arousal.

Hotch and Reid left hurriedly, Reid shifting in the car with the discomfort Hotch was familiar with.

“You okay?” Hotch asked.

“I’m painfully aroused,” Reid complained, “Why did you have to frisk me during dinner?”

“I’m a jealous man and you were talking Gideon up,” Hotch replied flatly.

“I was not!” Reid argued, looking both alarmed and amused.

“I know you weren’t,” Hotch smiled, “I’m just teasing.”

“He was brilliant,” Reid replied, “I enjoyed his books. I’ll have to read Rossi’s as well.”

“I’ll ask him to send some.”

“Oh, no. I prefer to buy them. It benefits the author and that encourages them to produce more books.”

“Trust me, Rossi doesn’t need encouragement,” Hotch laughed, “Or your hard earned money.”

“Can I masturbate in your car?” Reid asked, “I’ll try not to make a mess. It will help me to relax and I really _am_ uncomfortable right now. That and there’s this whole thing where serotonin-“

“Wow. Yeah. Please do,” Hotch replied with wide eyes that were still glued to the road.

“Cool,” Reid struggled with his clothes and finally got his cock out.

Hotch glanced at him as he laid the seat back and then began to stroke his cock. He gave himself a few squeezes to ease the pressure and then began to speed up his strokes. Reid’s soft hums and sighs had Hotch shifting in his seat, adjusting his own cock in his trousers.

“Oh, this is helpful,” Reid moaned, picking up the pace.

“No, not too fast,” Hotch scolded, “Slow it down. Enjoy it.”

“I _am_ enjoying it,” Reid gasped, “Ohhh, Aaron.”

“That is way too sexy,” Hotch breathed.

“Do you ever touch your nipples? I like that,” Reid panted, “Is that weird?”

“That’s unbearably sexy,” Hotch replied, “May I?”

“Yeah,” Reid breathed, “Just don’t crash, yeah?”

“Sure,” Hotch replied, reaching out blindly until he located a nipple through Reid’s shirt. He stroked around it until it perked up and then gave it a gentle pinch. Reid gasped and arched in the seat, his motions becoming unruly.

“I’m close,” Reid whimpered, digging in his pocket and pulling out a few paper napkins.

“Yeah?” Hotch purred in encouragement. He reached out and pinched his other nipple and Reid let out a shout as he came into the napkins, working the underside of his cock for a bit.

“Oh, that was sooo good,” Reid sighed, sagging back in the seat.

“Gorgeous,” Hotch breathed.

“Should I?” Reid asked.

They pulled into Hotch’s driveway and he gave the empty house next door a glare. She’d be gone for a few months at most. It was hard to put someone away for stalking for long. In the mean time, he was feeling frisky and no one was around to see them.

“Yeah,” Hotch replied.

Reid reached out and cupped the front of his trousers while Hotch groaned and let his head fall back. Reid stroked him over his clothes while Hotch rolled his hips. He unbuckled his seatbelt and hesitated with his hands on his fly.

Reid nodded shyly and Hotch pulled himself free. Reid licked his lips and then shocked Hotch completely by diving down to mouth the tip of his cock. Hotch moaned obscenely, his eyes falling closed as Reid shyly kissed his cockhead. He gave him a subtle lick and then pulled away.

“I’m sorry, I can’t…”

“It’s fine,” Hotch panted, reaching for his cock to finish himself off, but Reid stopped him.

“No,” Reid stated, his eyes turning stubborn, “I’m doing this.”

Reid sank down on him, choking once before Hotch showed him how to use his hand as well the way Haley had. Once he had all of Hotch in his mouth his confidence returned and Hotch groaned in pleasure as the young man began to work him fast. Reid was slurping loudly and suckling frantically, eager to get Hotch off quickly, and the agent wasn’t opposed to the idea. He also didn’t want to scare Reid off, so he hurriedly pulled him up before he reached culmination. Reid cut off Hotch’s hand and stroked him quickly, working his head while Hotch grunted out his release.

When Hotch and Reid’s eyes met the younger man was looking extremely proud of himself. Hotch grinned broadly and helped him clean up his hands.

“How do you feel?” Hotch asked.

“I need a shower,” Reid laughed, “And mouthwash, but I don’t need to bleach myself.”

“Well,” Hotch smiled, “That’s a start. Thank you for this, I know it was hard on you.”

“Was that a pun?” Reid teased.

“No!” Hotch laughed, getting his clothes in order.

“I think that was a pun! You told a joke!”

“It was _not_ a joke,” Hotch chuckled, opening the car door, “It wasn’t.”

“It was a joke and I’m telling Gideon,” Reid told him firmly.

“How?!” Hotch demanded as Reid hurried for the door.

“As soon as my medicine enables me to use a cell phone I’m going to call him!” Reid taunted, unlocking the door and hurrying instead.

Hotch hurried after him, but after watching to see that Reid was just cleaning and showering he stepped away to settle them in.


	12. Chapter 12

Waking up next to Reid, even if it was in a boiling hot room, was nearly as satisfying as having Reid’s mouth on his dick. The young man was on the other side of the bed, sweat making his hair stick to his forehead, with a soft smile on his face. He turned slightly and snored softly, making Hotch smile fondly. He wanted to hold him but it was just too hot to touch each other. Instead he let his young lover sleep, heading into the bathroom to take a cool shower and then cook breakfast by candlelight. Leaving just the kitchen functioning, even without lights, was working out for now. Hopefully with Reid’s medication he’d be able to sleep in the house with the air running eventually, but even if he didn’t Hotch thought they could manage it.

_I see a future with him. I want a future with him._

Hotch made up a tray and carried it into the bedroom where he gently woke Reid. He rubbed his eyes adorably, blinking at Hotch in the candlelight.

“Morning,” Reid smiled.

“I hope pancakes work for you,” Hotch smiled.

“Mm, yeah,” Reid sat up, “Did you do this for me?”

“I wanted to welcome you home,” Hotch smiled softly, “We can go eat on your porch if you like. Or here.”

“Here,” Reid yawned, “I just need to use the bathroom.”

“Sure,” Hotch smiled, sitting down on his side with the tray between them.

Reid wandered away, scratching at his bare ass while Hotch ogled him hungrily. Reid returned a few minutes later and sighed happily as he sat down on the bed. They ate in silence, picking off their individual plates. They had moved the coffee to the nightstands so every once in a while Hotch turned a bit to sip at the coffee. Reid downed his in hungry gulps.

“They didn’t let us have much in the hospital,” Reid sighed, “It was awful.”

“Hm,” Hotch smiled at him fondly, “I’m sorry you had to go through that. After work today we can go over there and talk to your doctor. Do you have a way to schedule it?”

“Yeah,” Reid nodded, “I gave them your number. They were supposed to call you yesterday.”

“I didn’t get a call,” Hotch frowned, “I’ll call them today.”

“Thanks,” Reid smiled at him softly, “It was driving me crazy them telling me you weren’t real. I refused to believe it.”

Hotch smiled fondly and leaned in for a kiss. Reid blushed sweetly and Hotch noticed that the sun was rising.

“Well, that light means it’s time for me to get going. Do you need a lift anywhere?”

“No,” Reid smiled fondly, “I want to stay home for a bit. I missed my little shed.”

“Okay,” Hotch stood up, “Can you do some dishes for us?”

“Sure. Anything else?” Reid asked, watching as Hotch got ready for the day.

“Um… trash day tomorrow. Take out the cans before I get home so we can head straight to your doctor’s office.”

“Will do,” Reid smiled.

“I love you, Spnecer,” Hotch told him as he moved to the door.

“I love you, too,” Reid replied, his voice choked. Hotch hesitated at the door, looking back at Reid in concern.

“You okay?”

“Better than,” Reid replied softly.

“Good,” Hotch smiled, “Have a great day.”

“You too.”

XXX

Hotch returned to work with a spring in his step and tackled their work. He called Reid’s doctor during his lunch break and set them up with an appointment, but he had to break it because a case came up a few minutes later. He had no way to tell Reid so he just had to hope that the young man wasn’t worried. As Reid knew, he had to go at a moment’s notice.

Hotch hated every day that kept him away from Reid, but his focus on his case kept him from noticing it until he hit the plane ride home. Once he was on the jet he felt like it would never land. He rushed through his paperwork and hurried home, noting the lantern light flickering from Reid’s little shed windows. Hotch hurried over and knocked politely. Reid peered out the window, unbolted the door, and threw his arms around Hotch with a happy cry.

“I missed you,” Hotch purred.

“I missed you,” Reid smiled as he stepped back, “Come in?”

“I’d love to,” Hotch smiled.

They found their chairs, holding hands as Hotch told Reid about his case. Reid passed him his latest book while Hotch pulled off his tie and jacket to make himself more comfortable.

“Grissom said he was glad to have me back,” Hotch told him, “He was really getting annoyed with how unfocused I was without you.”

“My tips aren’t that good,” Reid chuckled.

“They’re wonderful,” Hotch corrected, “But they weren’t responsible for my mood.”

Reid’s finger moved down each page, “I’m going to need something to do once my meds are straightened out and I’m fully functional.”

“Damn, your meds,” Hotch huffed, “We need to see your doctor.”

“You have tomorrow off?” Reid asked.

“Yes,” Hotch agreed, “We’ll go then.”

“Will you… will you stay?” Reid asked, glancing up shyly.

“Absolutely,” Hotch smiled warmly.

XXX

Doctor Finkle was a thin older woman with graying hair and warm eyes behind decorative glasses. She opened the door and led them in, smiling at Reid as she saw he was well dressed and looking well.

“My!” She smiled at Hotch, “What a lovely suit!”

“Thank you,” Hotch replied, then pulled out his badge and got down to business, “Special Agent Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner, I understand you’re my partner’s doctor.”

“Partner?” She asked, eyes going wide as she took the badge and examined it carefully.”

“The romantic kind,” Hotch replied, “Though Spencer would make a great agent if he could pass the psych evals. He often assists me on cases unofficially.”

“I could pass them, I’d just be faking it,” Reid replied, skimming her book shelf and selecting one. He sat down and began paging through it while Hotch handed the discussion.

“I understand you have an official diagnoses for Spencer?”

“Spencer,” The doctor glanced at him, “What am I free to discuss with your… partner?”

“Everything,” Reid replied, “He can also confirm what is and isn’t real for you.”

“Very well,” The doctor pulled out Reid’s chart, “Has Spencer been stalked in the past?”

“By whom?” Hotch asked, not willing to acknowledge the real incident if he didn’t have to.

“By a neighbour, most recently.”

“That’s the only incident I’m aware of,” Hotch nodded, “She tried to incriminate me but was disproved and arrested. I’d like you to help me sign the papers to be declared Spencer’s guardian so I can file a restraining order for him. I’d rather he didn’t go through the stress of appearing before a judge.”

The doctor looked surprised, but lowered her eyes to the file again, “Has he ever been sexually assaulted?”

“Not that I’ve seen evidence of, but I’m only recent into his life. Has this occurred in the last year?”

“No,” Spencer and the doctor stated together.

“That’s a relief,” Hotch nodded.

“Let’s see,” The doctor continued, “Is there a large black dog living in your back yard?”

Hotch frowned, “No.”

“Does _Spencer_ live in your back yard.”

“Yes.”

“Has he ever been attacked there?”

“Not to my knowledge, but he has had panic attacks there and I’m uncertain what the neighbour might have tried. He didn’t feel entirely safe.”

“I felt _safer_ ,” Spencer insisted, giving him a worried look.

“It’s fine, Spence,” Hotch gripped his forearm gently, “I don’t expect miracles.”

“Is your partner in the FBI jealous of you?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Does he take issue with your relationship with Spencer?”

“Until recently, yes. We’re working on it.”

“Spencer mentioned that he was afraid you were sleeping with someone named Derek Morgan…” She gave him a glance over her glasses.

Hotch smirked, “I’m sure he’s attractive and I can see why Spencer would worry, but he’s the only man I’ve ever been interested in. I’ll work on making that more comfortable for him.”

“I’m sorry,” Reid whispered.

Hotch stroked his forearm, “You have to share your concerns with me, sweetheart. That’s the only way this works. Morgan is my subordinate only.”

Reid smiled softly, and returned to his book. The doctor continued: “Do you have musical lights strung on your house?”

“No,” Hotch shook his head, “Electrical hallucinations are common for Spencer from what I understand. I try to keep the electric off for the most part.”

Her eyes widened, “You’re really doing that?”

“Yes, is that a bad idea? I want him to feel safe but I also don’t want to enable him. I’m just not sure where-“

“It would only be enabling if this were behaviour he could _help_ ,” The doctor cut him of, waving her hand dismissively, “In Nevada going without air conditioning is a bit… alarming.”

“We do it in shifts,” Hotch told her, “The air runs during the day while he’s out and about- or in it, if he can tolerate it- and then we shut it off and seal the house up tight at night. If it’s a really rough night for him he sleeps in his shed, which has good airflow and is built in the shade, and I usually stay in the house to give him space. We’re looking at ways to cool it of further but it would be nice if he could tolerate _some_ electricity at some point. If not, I’m prepared to give it up for the long haul.”

“You are?” She asked with wide eyes.

Hotch shrugged, “A minimalist lifestyle is fine by me.”

“I _told_ you he was dreamy,” Reid smirked down at the book.

“Thanks,” Hotch gave him a half smile, “I’d like to know the best ways to help Spencer heal in any way that he can, and I’d also like some help understanding his medication situation and how best to support him.”

They talked for a while, Hotch holding Reid’s hand when he wasn’t thumbing through her book collections. He participated but was also standoffish with her, apparently still not thrilled that she hadn’t believed him about his FBI boyfriend. Hotch thought her disbelief well founded, but he didn’t want Reid to sleep in the shed alone for the next week out of pique so he kept his thoughts to himself. In the end she adjusted his medication after listening sincerely to his complaints about how he was feeling and how he wanted to be able to function while taking medication.

“Since you seem to have a great deal of support,” She told Reid with a warm smile at Hotch, “I think lowering your medication to keep your head clear is a possibility, but I’d like to try a _different_ medication instead. This one will treat your anxiety better rather than focusing only on your hallucinations.”

“That would be fantastic,” Reid smiled eagerly, gripping Hotch’s hand tightly; “I want him to be able to lead as normal a life with me as we can. Just because he’s _willing_ to make sacrifices, doesn’t mean he should _have_ to.”

XXX

They had what amounted to a cold snap in Nevada so Hotch and Reid eagerly retired to the shed with sodas and a bottle of lube. Hotch knew he was being hopeful, but he was also more than a bit eager to get his hands on Reid again. He had the power off in the house so he could run off and shower when he needed to, and just in case he was _really_ freaked out Hotch had a bucket of soapy water by the bed. Reid nodded at his actions and then laid down on the bed and held his hands out.

“I want your weight on me,” Reid purred.

Hotch hummed in approval as he removed most of his clothes before climbing between Reid’s long legs. He leaned over him and kissed him before settling gently across his body. Reid moaned softly and they began a soft, slow, long kiss. Hotch thought he could manage that for the rest of the night if it meant he could just touch this wonderful young man for as long as possible. Eventually his erection started to become painful so he began to roll his hips. Reid groaned beneath him and their make-out session turned from sweet to heated. Reid’s long limbs wrapped around him and Hotch found himself frotting faster as he chased his release. Reid pushed him away to tug his own pants down and they fumbled with their underclothes. Hotch attacked those nipples that Reid had mentioned before and the young man was soon a moaning, sighing mess. He pulled at Hotch’s hair as he writhed in longing beneath him. When Hotch reached down to stroke his balls Reid bucked eagerly. When he reached lower to tease his taint the young man thrashed and shouted his name. When he reached lower Reid went completely still and actually stopped breathing. Hotch moved his hand away immediately and lifted his head to catch Reid’s lips and sooth away the fear, but his eyes were blown with lust and the second Hotch removed his hand he whimpered piteously.

Hotch kept his eyes on Reid’s face as he slid his hand back down his thigh, over one soft mound, and slid his fingers into forbidden territory again. He stroked gently, not pushing without lubricant, and Reid’s eyes fell shut as he shivered in desire. Hotch shifted up, moving away from Reid’s bottom as he reached beneath the bed to grab the lubricant. He slicked up his fingers and returned them, leaning forward to cover Reid’s body as he’d requested. He kissed him deeply as he gently stroked his pucker. Reid whimpered and lifted his hips, encouraging Hotch to prod a bit more firmly. He continued to stroke until Reid whispered a soft plea, and then he pushed just the tip of his finger into the clenching body beneath him. Hotch worked his finger until Reid relaxed and then began to pump it firmly, twisting gently to maximize sensation. Reid’s mouth was open, his head back as he gasped and twisted the blankets in his hands.

“You’re gorgeous,” Hotch whispered, then slipped a second finger in beside the first and curled his digits.

Reid cried out and bucked beneath him. Hotch worked him faster, breathing hard as Reid became frantic beneath him. He was tossing his head from side to side and moaning continuously. Hotch had no idea a man could enjoy his ass being fingered so much, but Reid was out of his mind with pleasure, his cock leaking onto his belly. Hotch slid his fingers free and watched Reid’s eyes fly open, panting and licking his lips anxiously. Again he kept eye contact as he reached for the lubricant. Hotch poured some on his own hand and reached down to stroke his own cock a few times, hissing at the feel against his painfully sensitive flesh. He kept his body lowered so Reid couldn’t look down and become frightened by Hotch’s size.

“Lift your legs for me, sweetheart,” Hotch whispered, brushing their lips together gently, “I’ll be slow and gentle. You tell me the _second_ you want to stop.”

Reid whimpered, but lifted his legs higher. Hotch rubbed the head of his cock against Reid’s gaping entrance several times, calming him with familiar motions, and then carefully pushed forward. The pop through his first ring of muscles was agonizing. Hotch moaned loudly as he sank into Reid’s body. They both froze for a moment, Hotch panting as he laid his head on Reid’s shoulder. He had made it halfway in before Reid’s body fought back a bit. Now he was just giving them both a moment.

 _“Move_ ,” Reid whimpered, “Please. It cramps when you’re still, but when you move- _ohhh_.”

Hotch growled in pleasure as he slid in and out of Reid’s tight body. He began to work his way in deeper and soon found himself stroking in to the hilt.

“Tell me when I can go faster,” Hotch panted.

“Yes. Now. Go,” Reid whispered, hand tangled in Hotch’s hair again. He was a vicious hair puller and Hotch loved it.

Hotch’s hips began to snap and the sound of flesh slapping together filled the tiny shed. He moaned loudly. He hadn’t _dared_ to imagine this moment with Reid, but now he was here. Inside him. Making love. Their bodies moving together as Reid draped his legs over Hotch’s shoulders and grasped his head with both hands to bring their lips together in a bruising kiss. Hotch felt himself nearing completion and pried his lips away so he could focus on reaching down to touch Reid’s prick. The angle was awful, so he pushed up on his arms to lift himself higher and must have hit the perfect angle because Reid let out a gasp of shock and then moaned as he began to pulse across his body. Hotch swore as Reid’s ass milked him for all he was worth, suckling every drop out of him and leaving him with shaking arms. Hotch slid free and quickly reached for tissues, knowing Reid would panic if he felt the fluids that were pouring out of him.

“Thanks,” Reid panted, meaning the tissues.

“Thank _you_ ,” Hotch breathed, meaning for trusting him with his body.

Reid gave Hotch a lopsided smile, “You’re welcome.”

Hotch couldn’t help but chuckle, but he could see Reid was slowly turning pale so he quickly tried to distract him.

“Let me wash you? Here? In your home? I want you to feel complete here.”

“Yeah, okay,” Reid replied with a nod.

Hotch laid down a towel from his stash of clean linens and Reid squatted over it, breathing out a soft sound of pleasure as Hotch ran a soapy, wet rag over his body. He washed him the way he would an infant, starting with the least dirty parts and moving inward. By the time he reached Reid’s genitals and then his bottom the young man had entirely dripped out onto the towel beneath him. He was also completely unconcerned about it. Reid had a small smile on his lips, his head tilted slightly to one side as he basked in Hotch’s attention. When Hotch finished cleaning the last of his body he guided Reid to stand, stabilizing him when he wobbled from holding the position too long, and then gently patted him dry with another clean towel. He guided him back into their bed after changing the linens and Reid curled up and dropped instantly to sleep. Hotch smiled at him fondly and took the bucket out to dump it. He washed himself in the bathroom and then returned to climb into Reid’s bed to hold him close.


	13. Chapter 13

It had been a long road. Reid had relapsed once when a friend of his had died and Hotch had nearly lost him to an overdose. It had taken months to get him back to a safe, sane place again. He’d returned and spent another two months living in his shed again, someplace he hadn’t stayed for more than a few hours at a time in years.

Yet they’d made it. Reid had been sober for a year since his relapse and was doing amazingly well. He was also functioning far better than he ever had and had taken on a lecture position at the local University. Hotch was proud of him and deeply in love, which was why he’d taken the time to plan their engagement so thoroughly.

All of their friends were there. Reid was returning home from his late night lecture and he walked right in to a surprise party, jumping in alarm and then instinctively seeking out Hotch. He made sure he was close and took Reid’s hands into his own to add some realism to the situation.

“Aaron?” Reid asked cautiously.

Hotch pulled him in and handed him a glass of ginger ale. They lived in a dry house now, and he wasn’t breaking that even for this special moment. Hotch led Reid to the center of their living room, smiling as he stared around at his friends and family. Four years previously they’d have had to do this by candlelight. Three years before Reid had left him to study abroad for a while and find his footing without Hotch as a crutch. Two years before they’d been so content he hadn’t wanted to shake anything up. A year ago he hadn’t known if Reid would survive the night. Now he wanted this date to mark something good rather than the night his beloved nearly died.

“Spencer Reid,” Hotch turned to Reid, watching him sip anxiously at his glass as he glanced around, “I know you would never want a big wedding and I also know I’d hate to plan it so…”

“Wait, wedding?” Reid blinked in surprise, “But we’re not even…”

Hotch took Reid’s glass from him and handed it to Gideon, who looked a bit teary eyed. Then he dropped down on one knee and pulled the box from his pocket.

“-So I figured if I want a party it had better be an engagement party.”

“Oh…” Reid breathed, then put one hand over his mouth and held himself tightly with the other arm. His eyes quickly welled up with tears as Hotch opened the small box in his hand to reveal a thick, wooden ring with flecks of colored stone pressed and varnished into the wood. 

“Spencer Reid, you have brought me unrivaled happiness and no small amount of anguish. I never want that to end. I want to live and suffer by your side for as long as we both live. Will you marry me? I swear, I’ll build you a bigger shed…”

The room broke into light laughter and Reid choked out a laugh over a sob and nodded his head, hands shaking as he held long digits out for the ring and the box. Hotch quickly drew the ring out and slipped it onto Reid’s finger with a loving smile. He stood up and pulled him in by his elbows for a chaste kiss and a tight hug.

“You bastard, you made me cry in front of your friends,” Reid choked out as the room erupted into applause.

“You’ll forgive me,” Hotch replied, stepping back to give him a tender smile, “You’re so gorgeous.”

“I’ve got snot on my face,” Reid choked.

“Still beautiful,” Hotch chuckled, “But let’s clean you up anyway.”

The party went on late into the night; long after Reid fell asleep on the couch, curled up like a kitten. Hotch did only the barest of cleaning up before joining his lover and resting his head in his hip.

_My fiancé. He’s my fiancé now._

Hotch sat up once more, but only to turn out the light before lying back down in the darkness and listening to the soft hum of the electricity in the walls.

 

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